


Sanders Sides Fluffuary 2020

by Crownonymous



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Fluff, Fluffuary, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Poetry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-01
Updated: 2020-03-11
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:02:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 29
Words: 45,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22515922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crownonymous/pseuds/Crownonymous
Summary: 29 Days Of FluffDay 1 - Prinxiety | Day 2 - Logicality | Day 3 - Logince | Day 4 - Moxiety | Day 5 - Analogical | Day 6 - Royality | Day 7 - LAMP | Day 8 - Loceit | Day 9 - Roceit | Day 10 - Moceit | Day 11 - Anxceit | Day 12 - DLAMP | Day 13 - Intrulogical | Day 14 - Free choice! | Day 15 - Dukexiety | Day 16 - Dukeceit | Day 17 - Intruality | Day 18 - DRLAMP | Day 19 - Remile | Day 20 - Choice Remy x Side | Day 21 - Choice Emile x Side | Day 22 - Choice OT3 | Day 23 - Favorite Roman ship | Day 24 - Favorite Logan ship | Day 25 - Favorite Patton ship | Day 26 - Favorite Virgil ship | Day 27 - Favorite Deceit ship | Day 28 - Favorite Remus ship | Day 29 - Favorite rarepair
Relationships: Analogical - Relationship, DLAMP, Dr. Emile Picani/Deceit Sanders, Dukexiety, Familial Moxiety, Intruloceit - Relationship, Intrulogical - Relationship, LAMP - Relationship, Loceit, Logicality, Logince, Losleep, Moceit, Prinxiety, Remile, Roceit, Royality - Relationship, anxceit, demus - Relationship, dlampr, intruality - Relationship
Comments: 175
Kudos: 701





	1. Day 1: Prinxiety

**Author's Note:**

> Prompts given by [TS Ship Month 2020](https://tsshipmonth2020.tumblr.com/)  
> Read it on Tumblr [HERE](https://hufflepuff-deceit.tumblr.com/post/190593980509/fluffuary-2020-prinxiety)  
> 

The thing about the Kingsley twins, is that both of them were really fucking loud. Anyone who had even the tiniest sliver of information on Remus “no filter” Kingsley understood that being in his presence meant bringing a pair of good headphones, or learn how to tune him out. Oh, Remus’ stories were interesting all right. Never let it be said that Virgil didn’t appreciate his best friend’s talents. It’s just that when one has crippling anxiety as Virgil did, being in the company of a best friend who turned heads just by existing wasn’t the best of ideas.

Remus stood out when they hung out together. All spiked leather jackets and piercings and jewelry heavy enough that if Remus accidentally stepped into a river, he’d sink to the bottom and drown, and Virgil was just  _ there _ . People crowded around Virgil if Virgil was around Remus. They wanted Remus’ bombastic personality. They wanted to be drawn in like moths to a flame and forget the dreadful, terrible, nerve-wracking reality that is highschool.

Virgil gets it. He did.

But Remus was  _ his _ best friend and the fact that all these other people were hogging him was… well, it was a bummer. Virgil can’t think of any words right now. One moment, he and Remus were sitting behind the school, near the football field like they always did. Quiet, save for Remus’ raucous laughter and dirty jokes, and then before he knew it, people swarmed them. They wanted to talk to the football star. They wanted to talk to Remus. And they were crowding, and they were loud in the bad way, and Virgil couldn’t handle it.

Remus tried to get them out of there, but the thing about the Kingsley twins is that people really fucking loved both of them. Virgil was pushed out of the crowd, Remus couldn’t find his way out, and there was so much noise that Virgil just ran away from the scene, blood pumping, ears ringing, and anxiety clawing something fierce underneath his skin.

So now he was here. In an empty gym sitting sullenly on the bleachers. It was quiet here in a way that Virgil needed right now. The lights were too bright, but if Virgil rested his head against his knees, he could maybe block everything out.

His heart was still racing. His skin tingled from being shoved around like a ragdoll in a big crowd and Virgil wished that he wasn’t alone right now. Virgil hated crowds, hated the feeling of having so many bodies pressed together around him and hated the grating chatter and the scent of sweat. But Virgil hated feeling alone even more. “I wish someone was here,” whispered Virgil to himself as he curled into a tighter ball.

The gym door opened and Virgil violently wished that he had never opened his stupid fucking mouth. All of Virgil’s body went shock still, hoping that if he didn’t move, no one would notice him on the bleachers. Whoever it was had probably just forgotten something and would leave just as quickly, Virgil thought. It was an obnoxiously sunny day outside. It was after school hours. All of the sports teams were out on the track or the field practicing for interhigh tournaments. No one should be here. If Virgil remained silent and motionless, they wouldn’t notice him and go away.

That’s not what happened.

Instead of leaving as Virgil had hoped, there were footsteps fast approaching him. Virgil kept his head pressed against his knees and accepted his fate.

“Virgil?” asked a familiar voice. When Virgil tilted his head up just the tiniest bit, he was met with Roman Kingsley’s furrowed brows. “You okay there Peter Panic?” Virgil didn’t have the energy to respond and just slumped his head back down.

They weren’t close, Virgil and Roman, but they were kind-of-sort-of-maybe-friends. Virgil was over at the Kingsley household a lot. At one point or another, he was going to run into Roman. They didn’t dislike each other, but Roman was always just too… preppy and bright for him. They were polar fucking opposites.

But surprisingly, Roman sat beside him. Close enough that if Virgil unwound his arms, he could probably hold Roman’s hand. He could. But he won’t. Roman was a maybe-friend and holding hands with a maybe-friend that Virgil always found himself looking at might be a little strange. Besides, if Virgil did hold Roman’s hand, Roman might ask why, and Virgil was not prepared to have that conversation.

“You know, if you were a cartoon character, there’d be a storm cloud over your head right now,” said Roman conversationally. “You’re always such a negative nancy, but something’s off with you today. Something happen?” Despite his genial tone, Roman took great care not to intrude in Virgil’s personal space.

And now Virgil should probably respond to the question, but he can’t. All of his nerves were still shot and fried. All he did was shrug and hope that Roman gets it. Nothing really happened, but Virgil just got overwhelmed and he couldn’t take it.

It took a few moments for Roman to respond. He was furrowing his brows and tilting his head this way and that to get a good look at Virgil, trying to decipher all of the little unsaid things between them.

“Do you want to take a nap, Dr. Gloom? Maybe you won’t be so cranky if you get some zz’s. I’ll stay here with you.”

Roman doesn’t really get all of Virgil’s body language yet. He doesn’t get the meaning behind Virgil’s shoulders hunching up, or the reason why Virgil picks at the torn edges of his sleeves. Roman doesn’t  _ get _ any of it, but he still stayed even if he didn’t quite understand. Virgil made a mental note to thank him later.

“I won’t breathe a word of this to Remus, in case you’re wondering about that,” said Roman. “You think he’s a little shit with you? I live with the guy. He won’t know if you decide to take a nap here for a bit.” Virgil lifted his head up again to see. Roman was facing Virgil, arms outstretched. “Remus tells me I make a great pillow, by the way.”

Sleeping on Roman was even weirder than holding his hand. Then again, there was no one else in the gym. They were alone. And Virgil was getting a little tired. All the panicking and stressing and “running from the back of the school to the gym” exhausted him. Besides, Roman said it was fine, so what’s the harm?

Virgil slumped down onto Roman’s lap and threw an arm over his eyes. “Thanks,” mumbled Virgil.

“I’ll be quiet,” replied Roman.

The thing about the Kingsley twins is that both of them were really loud. Remus could cause a scene standing quietly in the centre of an empty room. Roman was passion in everything that he did. Both of them took up space, both of them were loud, both of them loved attention.

But, Virgil noted as he began to drift away, Roman was quiet around him. Roman was softer.

And he was a really good pillow.


	2. Day 2: Logicality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patton's dog is the best wing man. Or wing girl. Wing dog? Whatever. She was the best.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompts given by [TS Ship Month 2020](https://tsshipmonth2020.tumblr.com/)  
> Read it on Tumblr [HERE](https://hufflepuff-deceit.tumblr.com/post/190607189259/fluffuary-2020-logicality)  
> 

On a fine Saturday morning somewhere in Florida, early enough that not all the birds have risen yet, there was a man trying very, very desperately to get his dog to behave. That man was Patton Hart, and his dog was named Virginia Woof. A massive 150 pound Tibetan Mastiff that was just not having it today.

Usually, dear old Virginia Woof got her daily fill of exercise during the evening. Most dog owners brought their own little ones to the park a little after 5 or 6 and Virginia Woof tired herself out playing with all the other dogs. But Patton had a meeting in the afternoon today, and he can’t take Virginia Woof out at that time, so he has to walk her this morning instead, and boy does she run around a lot.

The last time Patton had to sprint that long was way back during highschool gym class. They must have been here for half an hour already, and Virginia Woof shows no sign of slowing down. Her tail was wagging something fierce; Patton was afraid that it might fall off.

She tugged on her leash again, almost making Patton tumblr down from her weight. He didn’t, thankfully. Not that anyone was around to see him get knocked flat on his bum by a dog heavier than he was, but still.

Virginia Woof didn’t seem bothered by her incessant tugging. She just kept staring up at Patton with those huge lovely eyes and the dopey grin, tongue lolling out like she still wants to play. “Aren’t you tired, kiddo?” asked Patton. All he got was an excited bark and another tug of the leash. “I don’t think I can go another round of running around the park, girl.” Bark! “My legs are just  _ killing _ me.” Bark! Bark! “Okay. But just one more lap okay? Your poor ol’ Pop’s gonna collapse if we run any more.”

A triumphant bark. And some tail wagging. And now Virginia Woof was licking Patton’s hand all happy-like and Patton couldn’t even remember why he didn’t want to go on another run. After all, if he can’t even keep up with his dog (very large, very energetic dog) then maybe he needed the exercise. Probably. Maybe. He was still getting a second gosh-darn cookie when he gets home though; he deserves it.

So Patton steeled himself for another lap around the park so Virginia Woof can maybe, finally, hopefully get rid of all this energy. When she suddenly stopped after not several steps of running, Patton should have realised that something was wrong. See, dear Virginia Woof looked like an angel sweet as can be. When Patton came home from work with exhaustion clinging to his limbs, Virginia Woof would bark and bounce to him excitedly and wag her tail and like magic, Patton’s exhaustion was gone.

But he forgot that when he first got her, she broke three plates, a bowl, and set fire to the carpet by knocking a candle over.

She looked like an angel, but boy oh boy did she have a mean streak.

And on a fine Saturday morning when the sun was finally starting to creep up over the horizon and all the birds slowly began to fly into the open sky one by one, Patton Hart’s giant devilish beast of a dog wrenched her leash from Patton’s hands and barreled straight for a perfect stranger.

“Watch out!” Patton cried a few seconds too late as Virginia Woof tackled all of her 150 pound body onto a respectable looking young man. Coffee flew into the air and splattered hotly against the ground. “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry,” Patton repeated over and over as he ran over to help the poor man back up to his feet. “Virginia Woof is normally so well behaved! I- I don’t know why she just tackled you like that. I’m so sorry, are you hurt?”

“I am physically unharmed, thank you,” said the stranger as he straightened up and wow did Patton suddenly remember he was gay. He had the prettiest eyes ever, like a deep deep blue. And his hair was all sleek. And he was glaring at Patton- no. Squinting? He was squinting at Patton’s general direction. “Have you seen my glasses, by any chance? I can’t see without them, I’m afraid.”

“Uh,” said Patton intelligently. Virginia Woof barked to his right, sitting beside a (thankfully) unbroken pair of Warby Parker’s. She looked so innocent, like she just didn’t make this poor man lose his coffee. Patton plucked the man’s glasses off the street. “Here, they’re undamaged, thankfully.” The stranger gave him a grateful nod as he took his glasses back and adjusted them atop the bridge of his perfect nose. “I can’t say the same about your coffee though.”

Both of them looked at the tragedy on the street; spilled coffee and an upturned cup. The man in glasses merely sighed and picked the cup up off the street and threw it into a nearby trash can. “I must admit, I did not anticipate getting assaulted by a… very pleased-looking mastiff this morning.”

“Pleased-looking?” Patton glanced at Virginia Woof. She was, indeed, very pleased looking. If dogs could smirk, she would be smirking up a storm right now. “Virginia Woof! Can’t you at least say sorry?” Bark, bark, bark! Her tongue stuck out.

“You named your dog after Woolf? The author?” the stranger interjected. “What a lovely name for such a lovely dog. Even if she is a bit- nescient of her strength.”

“She’s normally not like this. Guess she must have taken a liking to you,” said Patton. It was at this moment, that Virginia Woof decide to stand up and very forcibly nudge Patton closer to the stranger with another triumphant bark. Patton very narrowly avoided colliding with the man. “Sorry. She’s a bit restless right now. Oh! Um, I’m Patton by the way.”

“Logan.” The two of them shook hands. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. And your dog.” Even though she couldn’t understand them, Virginia Woof barked once again. At Logan. Insistently. Somehow understanding, Logan bent down to scratch her behind the ears. “I have always wanted to get a dog.”

“Oh yeah! Um. Yeah. I- uh, I totally get that,” said Patton. All intelligent thought seems to have fled him, apparently. “Dogs are great.”

“They are,” sighed Logan. “Work keeps me busy, I’m afraid, so even if I were to get a dog, I wouldn’t be able to give one the love and attention it deserves.” He’d be pretty good at it though, thought Patton. Virginia Woof seems to be enjoying pet time with her new friend.

“Where uh. Where do you work?”

“At the university not too far from here. Today was supposed to be my day off, but apparently, they needed help sorting papers.” A phone pinged. It wasn’t Patton’s. Logan slipped his phone out of his pocket and sighed again once he read what it says. “And apparently, the university no longer needs my assistance today. They simply misplaced some folders and won’t be requiring assistance. It seems that I have woken up earlier today for nothing.”

“Wow, that’s a bummer,” Patton said as his mind drew a blank. “The university huh. You know, I work at the bakery nearby.” Virginia Woof barked, scooting away from Logan’s grasp as she tried valiantly to gain Patton’s attention. She circled around the drying puddle of coffee. “And I make some pretty good coffee. Let me treat you! Since it was kind of my fault you dropped your first cup.”

Logan smiled. “I would like that, thank you.”

Just like that, Virginia Woof grabbed her leash, handed it to Patton and took her place beside him as the three of them made their way down the street, filling the early morning with lighthearted chatter. Once or twice, Virginia Woof knocked herself against Patton’s legs, bringing Patton and Logan closer together. Logan didn’t seem to mind.

Patton made a mental note to give her some treats later.


	3. Day 3: Logince

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is just a bullet fic. I don't have the energy to write a full fic for this one. Sorry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompts given by [TS Ship Month 2020](https://tsshipmonth2020.tumblr.com/)  
> Read it on Tumblr [HERE](https://hufflepuff-deceit.tumblr.com/post/190632530469/fluffuary-2020-logince)  
> 

  * Imagination date
  * Roman sets up a picnic blanket
  * The sky is set to early dawn, with pink hues and golden yellows colouring the horizon
  * There’s a picnic basket with fruits and handmade sandwiches
  * Crofters jelly sandwich; different flavours
  * Both of them are dressed comfortably, maybe in flannel in each other’s colours
  * Logan brings Roman a bouquet of flowers
  * Magnolia for nobility, dignity, and beauty
  * Balsam for ardent love
  * Gardenia for joy
  * And a fuck ton of red roses because he knows those are Roman’s favourites
  * Logan rests his head on Roman’s shoulder
  * Two of them kiss




	4. Day 4: Moxiety (Familial)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> FAMILIAL Moxiety - Baking and Drawing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompts given by [TS Ship Month 2020](https://tsshipmonth2020.tumblr.com/)  
> Read it on Tumblr [HERE](https://hufflepuff-deceit.tumblr.com/post/190655641109/fluffuary-2020-moxiety-familial)  
> 

Patton wished that at least one person out here told him that being a single dad was just exhausting. It’s like all of his nerves were on fire, and his muscles were terribly sore, and he can’t remember the last time he’s had a comfortable night’s sleep.

It was the best decision he’s ever made in his entire life.

Oh, the entire process of adopting Virgil was a nightmare. It was messy and stressful and Patton spent weeks jumping through dozens of legal hoops just to get the gosh-darned papers. The agency seemed convinced that Virgil was a “problem child” and did everything in their power to dissuade the adoption. But Patton can be pretty persistent if he wanted to, and in the end, he came home with his single greatest joy in life.

It wasn’t easy though. Just because he was legally Virgil’s father, didn’t mean that everything got sorted out with a snap of his fingers just like that.

Virgil was jumpy. He didn’t like loud noises and he didn’t like the dark. He didn’t like it when Patton made sudden movements, and he didn’t like it when Patton crowded his space. Virgil didn’t like being touched by anyone. Virgil didn’t like when Patton stepped on the floor a little too loud. Virgil didn’t like this and Virgil didn’t like that. Virgil was in third grade and he didn’t have many friends. Virgil liked reading and watching TV and drawing but he quickly fled if Patton asked him what he was doing. Virgil got nightmares and woke Patton up with shouting and sobbing. Virgil apologised for every little thing even if it wasn’t his fault.

It was difficult. There were times when Patton felt lost; like he was dropped inside a maze with the walls too tall to see over. Virgil said very little to him that first month after his adoption. At times, Patton felt as though he shared his home with a ghost.

But he didn’t regret a single thing.

Because Virgil needed a home, a family, someone he can turn to when things get too hard. Because Virgil was kind and he was thoughtful and he was considerate. Because Virgil -even during that first month when he barely spoke at all- always shoved his toys to the side so Patton wouldn’t trip on them, no matter how intricate his lego house had looked. Because Virgil was like rain on a hot summer day. Whenever Patton’s muscles got too sore from work, whenever he feels like he’s too tired to go on, he sees Virgil’s face and finds strength to keep going for just another day.

Virgil was his son; his family. And family takes work, and family isn’t always sunshine and rainbows, and family sometimes gets messy but by God was it worth it.

It took that one whole month for Virgil to realise that Patton was here for him, that Patton wasn’t going to hurt him, that Patton would do everything in his power to make sure Virgil was happy. It took weeks after that for Virgil to relax enough that he didn’t sprint to his room whenever Patton came home. It took even longer for Virgil to actually greet Patton when he came through the door.

Most of the time, Virgil just waved at him from the couch, ducking behind it when Patton waved back. But occasionally, Virgil would talk to him. Even better, Virgil would smile at him.

Today was one of those days.

Patton had been on his feet for most of his shift. Lead weighed down his arms, and something heavier dragged his legs along. One foot in front of the other never felt so impossible. Pushing the front door open felt like rolling a large boulder up a hill.

Virgil’s head popped over the couch as soon as Patton opened the door. Some brightly-coloured cartoon played on the TV. Judging by the papers and crayons strewn all over the coffee table, the TV was nothing but a distraction to chase the silence away while Virgil spent the afternoon drawing. Not that Patton minded; Virgil’s drawings were getting better and better by the day. He graduated from stick figures to block figures! Patton couldn’t be happier.

“Heya kiddo!” Patton waved as he shut the door. “How was your day?” For a while, Virgil said nothing, content to follow Patton with his eyes. After almost two months, Patton understood that he shouldn’t push; Virgil will answer when he’s ready to answer. Patton just kept himself in Virgil’s line of sight as he collapsed in a dining room chair as he waited. He’d rather sink down on the soft couch, but obviously, little Virgil was sitting there.

“Hi, Patton.” It took almost five minutes for Virgil to say anything. But when he did speak, he did so with a smile, just barely there. The tiniest quirk of his lips that Patton would have missed if he didn’t know how to look. “I’m okay.” Patton beamed. Virgil partially hid behind the couch again, but he still had his eyes and the top of his head poking up. “How’s work?”

Something light and giddy ran through Patton. It’s not the first time Virgil talked to him or asked him questions, but maybe he’ll never fully get over the airiness he feels inside. Of course, he kept his face somewhat relaxed, Virgil doesn’t shy away from him as often anymore, but Patton didn’t want to scare him off by pumping his fist in victory like he wanted. “Work was good for me too. Oh! Someone brought in a really large dog.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah! She was really heavy and I had to help keep her still while we did her regular check-ups.” Having to handle a large dog like that led to sore muscles. Being a vet was fun; Patton got to meet so many different animals and their owners and he truly did enjoy his job, but gosh. It was tiring sometimes. Virgil loved hearing stories about the animals Patton got to see though. So that was another bonus. “She had long brown fur that kept getting tangled with our brushes. And she keeps trying to lick my face too.”

Virgil smiled again.

“So… did you do anything interesting today in school?”

Virgil fell silent again, and Patton waited.

“It was someone’s birthday today.” Patton gave a hum in acknowledgement, but otherwise stayed quiet so Virgil could continue. “Their mom brought cupcakes for everyone.”

“Oh? What kind of cupcakes? Were they tasty?”

Virgil fidgeted. “They were okay. But they had nuts in them.” His face scrunched up in distaste. Just as quickly, Virgil schooled his face back to one of passiveness and ducked behind the couch, as though telling Patton he didn’t like nuts was a bad thing.

Patton laughed softly, if only to show Virgil that he wasn’t upset. “Aww, that’s okay buddy. Everyone likes different things. Did the cupcakes have frosting at least?” A muffled “no” came from the living room. Patton laughed again and Virgil poked his head up once more. “Do you want some more cupcakes? No nuts this time. And with super sweet frosting.” Virgil nodded.

And Patton may be tired, and his limbs might feel like jelly, but boy was he going to spend some quality time with his son. “Let’s go make some cupcakes together then. You don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to, though. No pressure kiddo.”

For a moment, Virgil looked like he was going to say no. Most of the time, Virgil stays at the fringes of Patton’s field of vision; close enough that he could see whatever Patton was doing, far enough away that he wasn’t actually in Patton’s space. It seemed that today, Virgil wanted to be in on the action. He padded out of the kitchen, clutching his oversized hoodie for dear life. Patton went ahead into the kitchen, digging around his cupboards for something he can easily make.

“What kind of cupcake do you want, Virgil?” he asked. “We have chocolate and vanilla.” Virgil pointed at the vanilla. “Vanilla it is, then!”

Patton can’t remember the last time he made cupcakes. He used to have a lot more free time, before taking Virgil in, but baking cupcakes all alone in his kitchen didn’t quite feel the same as having Virgil beside him, looking at all the ingredients Patton laid out on the counter with curiosity. Patton laid everything out on the counter, both of them washed their hands, and for the first time in almost two months, Virgil stood close enough to Patton that their sides touched.

“Do you want to try cracking an egg, Virgil?” Patton asked. “It’s super easy. You just break the egg, and pour it into the bowl.” There was a light in Virgil’s eyes, but he said nothing. “Want me to show you how?” Virgil nodded. So Patton grabbed the dining room chair and stood Virgil atop it so he could see. “You tap the rim of the bowl like this. Then you split the egg in half and let it drop into the bowl.” Virgil looked mesmerised. “And if you accidentally put bits of the shell inside, you can just take it out. Easy!”

“Can I try?” asked Virgil with a tiny voice. If Patton weren’t so near, he wouldn’t have heard it. It was the first time Virgil asked Patton for anything.

Obviously, Patton said yes.

Virgil held the egg in his hands delicately, and he gasped when he felt the egg crack against the rim of the bowl. Patton let him pour the egg inside and treasured the awed look Virgil made when he didn’t find any bits of the broken shell. “Wow! You’re a natural at this.” Virgil ducked his head down at the praise, but he reached for the third and final egg without prompting. “We have to add water next. Up until this line.” Patton let Virgil measure it out. It was a little bit too much, but he said nothing. Patton can’t quite recall a time Virgil smiled this much.

“Okay, so here’s the last ingredient for my secret to a super special tasty cupcake,” grinned Patton. Virgil didn’t grin back, but he did lean forward so Patton can tell him, and only him, the secret to a super special tasty cupcake. “You add a little bit of honey into the mix.” Patton handed Virgil the bottle. “Wanna squeeze a couple of drops of honey out?”

Virgil did.

“What next?”

“Next, we mix it all together!” Virgil grabbed the whisk. Then he stiffened up and looked at Patton. Patton just nodded. “You can mix it Virgil. Just make sure to mix it thoroughly. Okay?”

Virgil let out a soft breath and nodded. Patton watched his son mix everything together with full concentration.

“That’s all mixed now,” said Patton after a while. “You did so well, Virgil! You might even be better than me.” Virgil huffed and pulled his hood up. “I’m gonna put this in the oven now. If you want, you can go back to your show. I’ll call you when it’s done, ‘kay?”

“‘Kay.”

Virgil slunk down the chair and quickly retreated to the living room where his cartoon and drawings waited patiently. Patton had to clean up the kitchen by himself while the cupcakes were baking, and he had to bring out the icing by himself too, but hey. That’s what dads do, right?

The important thing is that Virgil had fun. He’ll never admit it to Patton’s face, but there were some pretty happy smiles while they were making the cupcake batter. And that’s all that Patton wanted, really.

When the oven dinged, Virgil was already standing by the kitchen, looking at the tray of cupcakes that Patton carefully manoeuvred out of the oven. “Okay kiddo, we have three icing colours. White, blue, and pink. And we have twelve cupcakes. Oh! And I brought out the sprinkles for you too.”

Virgil regarded his confectionary tools with silence. He grabbed the blue icing first, and offered it to Patton. He then promptly turned away and began using the white icing to try and create the spiderman logo on one of the cupcakes. Patton did his best to look focused as he created blue swirls on his side of the tray. Virgil watched him for a while, and imitated the way he iced.

Decorating cupcakes was faster than making them. They each did half of the tray. Virgil’s half was a smattering of frosting in odd shapes, all generously topped with sprinkles. Patton’s half was mostly blue, but there were some pink and white thrown in there too. There weren’t as many sprinkles on his side.

“What do you say we eat our hard-earned cupcakes in the dining room? It’s never too early for a little dessert.” Patton said.

Virgil tugged on his apron and said, “Wait.”

As confused as he may be, Patton did as Virgil asked, and stayed in the kitchen. He put away the frosting and the sprinkles, but he left the tray untouched. When Virgil next returned to the kitchen, he had a piece of paper in his hands.

Virgil shoved the piece of paper at Patton, grabbed the tray and hurriedly fled to the dining room. The cupcakes didn’t fall off the tray and more importantly, Virgil didn’t trip in his haste. The paper Virgil gave him was a little crinkled because of how roughly handled it, but the image on it was still clear as day.

Patton didn’t think a day would come where he’d almost cry in the middle of his kitchen wearing a pink dog print apron, but then again, he didn’t think Virgil would give him a drawing either. The Patton in Virgil’s drawing had a rounder face and bigger glasses and blocky limbs, but Patton loved it. The tiny letters scrawled messily near the bottom of the drawing were almost illegible, but Patton could make out the three letters well enough. ‘Dad,’ it said, in the same blue as Patton’s favourite cardigan.

When Patton returned to the dining room, he didn’t make a big deal out of it. Virgil’s face was burning red and he refused to even look at Patton. “Do you want to bake with me again, Virgil?” Patton said instead. Virgil nodded and proceeded to distract himself by stuffing his mouth with a cupcake. Patton said nothing more and ate beside Virgil. Beside his son. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Virgil’s drawing, hung proudly on the fridge with cute little magnets. Patton smiled around a mouthful of cupcake.

Being a single father was hard. It was exhausting. There were days when all of his nerves were on fire, and his muscles were terribly sore, and he can’t remember the last time he’s had a comfortable night’s sleep.

But God, was it worth it.


	5. Day 5: Analogical

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bullet fic about Logan and Virgil; how they met, and how they stayed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompts given by [TS Ship Month 2020](https://tsshipmonth2020.tumblr.com/)  
> Read it on Tumblr [HERE](https://hufflepuff-deceit.tumblr.com/post/190671934034/fluffuary-2020-analogical)  
> 

  * They met in middle school completely on accident
  * Logan is the typical “nerd” character you see in movies, glasses, reclusive, hella fucking smart, teacher’s favourite, dresses like he plans on interning at best buy when he grows up, all clothes ironed out
  * Although he looks good, and is pretty fucking smart, other children don’t pay Logan much attention because he’s “weird” without much social skills
  * In contrast, people pay Virgil too much attention because Virgil is over here looking like a weird mix of emo and punk with dyed hair and too many bands around his wrist
  * Also has no friends because of the aforementioned weird style. And also his crippling anxiety that basically means that Virgil will never initiate a conversation with someone he doesn’t know
  * Both of them were browsing the ‘horror’ section of the school’s library
  * Virgil wants to look for books about monsters or cryptids
  * Logan is actually looking for a novel
  * Both of them are so engrossed in their browsing that they literally bump into each other
  * Harshly
  * Logan is taller and easily knocks Virgil (who has the build of a dead twig) to the floor
  * Virgil’s headphones come off and this loud punk-ish music comes blaring
  * Virgil quickly turns his headphones off, embarrassed, but Logan doesn’t seem to care
  * Logan goes along the lines of, “[insert punk band here] is a wonderful band, but listening to music turned up so loud is harmful to you”
  * Then Logan helps Virgil up and apologises for knocking into him, saying that he’ll be more careful next time
  * Virgil accepts his apology, then goes “You like [insert punk band here] too?”
  * Still browsing, Logan pauses before saying “Yes, but I prefer [insert different punk band here]. I can focus on reading more with their music”
  * When the bell rings and the two of them leave for class, they come out with book recommendations from the other and some new bands to check out when they have free time
  * And thus starts the Virgil/Logan friendship saga
  * Every lunch, they eat in the cafeteria and head straight to the library to read and talk music
  * They got along like a house on fire and soon, you wouldn’t see Logan without Virgil and vice versa
  * Same for high school
  * No one at their new high school understood how their friendship worked because Virgil looks like a “troublemaker” and Logan is literally the definition of a “perfect student”
  * They met Patton, Roman, Damian, and Remus in high school
  * All of them became a huge circle of friends, but Virgil and Logan were always closest because they _get_ each other more
  * During weekends, sometimes even weekdays, they stay over at each other’s house, talking about nothing and just enjoying each other’s company
  * They partake in the other’s hobbies and interests whenever they can
  * Virgil knows next to nothing about space, but he still lays down beside Logan outside as Logan points out stars and constellations
  * Logan isn’t as interested as horror stories as Virgil is but he thinks up of monsters lurking in the shadows too
  * (Mothman is Logan’s favourite cryptid and he thinks Virgil doesn’t know but Virgil does)
  * Both of them are always at the top of their classes: Logan because he’s really fucking smart, and Virgil because he’s also pretty smart (just lazy) and also because his best friend is the smartest student in the entire school
  * Logan joined the student council sophomore year; still bad at social interaction, but with the help of his new friends and some encouragement for Virgil, he went for it
  * Virgil is in orchestra, playing the violin
  * Basically, Virgil had been playing the violin since he was young, but never had the courage to play in front of other people that isn’t Logan
  * Logan encouraged Virgil to join orchestra because Virgil is good at playing and it would be good for him if he could be with others who shared his same passion for music
  * It was at this moment that Virgil knew that he loved Logan as more than a friend
  * Of course, he wasn’t going to make a move, but late sophomore year is where the Virgil pining begins
  * The Logan pining started during their last year of high school, near graduation
  * See, Virgil got accepted into a fine arts college in another state where he can continue to practise his music, while Logan’s choice college is in a different state
  * They learned that they would be separated just a few weeks before graduation
  * When he realised that this is the first time he would be truly separated from Virgil since they met in middle school, Logan went “Oh, I love him” quietly in his head
  * Graduation comes
  * Neither of them confess
  * During the few weeks they have remaining before leaving, they spend each and every day with each other, talking about nothing and enjoying each other’s company
  * Logan introduces Virgil to several shows that he likes
  * Virgil teaches Logan how to play the violin
  * Logan learns that Virgil writes poetry to sort through his feelings and anxieties
  * Virgil learns that Logan loves baking because it’s similar enough to science experiments
  * Before they move away, they give each other a gift to remember them by
  * Logan gets Virgil a complete set of everything Edgar Allan Poe has written, embossed, and in its own box
  * Virgil gets Logan his own violin, a black one, with small white stars that Virgil hand-painted himself
  * They part ways and don’t see each other again for years
  * Oh, they keep in contact over the phone; calls and video calls
  * But over time, they kind of drifted
  * Their connection is still there, but it’s fainter, like a string pulled too taut
  * Virgil became a professional violinist, going on concerts and playing music for a living
  * Logan straight up became an astrophysicist and spends most of his time working
  * Their lives kind of lead them away from the other
  * Until they meet again, once more by chance, in a library
  * Both of them were, again, in the horror section and they once again literally bumped into each other
  * Harshly
  * This time, Logan is the one who falls down
  * Virgil got fucking TALL
  * The moment they lock eyes, it’s like everything came back to them and as soon as Virgil helps Logan up, they hug each other in greeting
  * It’s like they never parted, they easily fit together like two missing pieces of a puzzle
  * And the pining starts up really fucking quickly
  * This time though, they get their shit together and Logan asks Virgil out for dinner, just the two of them
  * They go on a date, and Logan kind of confesses that he’s been into Virgil since they were in highschool, and Virgil confesses the same thing, and they both laugh because they’re stupid and they shouldn’t have drifted apart so easily, but this time, for sure, they’ll stay together
  * Obviously, Virgil travels around a lot for concerts and Logan is still as devoted to his work as he always was, but they set time for each other
  * They get married in their late 20s or early 30s
  * (Their friends think they should have gotten together faster, but really they’re just glad the Virgil/Logan thing finally happened)
  * Both of them move into a quiet house in the country
  * It’s a long way from the city that the stars are brighter during the night so Logan can stargaze all he wants
  * The nearest neighbours are far enough away that Virgil can play music on their porch without disturbing anyone
  * The acoustics of the house are amazing
  * There are several bookshelves to hold Logan and Virgil’s combined books
  * There’s an old but well-loved collectors set of Edgar Allan Poe’s complete work in the living room, right beside a carefully tuned black violin with hand-painted white stars




	6. Day 6: Royality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you @yalltookmyurlideas over on tumblr for the prompt: everyone expects stronk roman. what about stronk patton?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompts given by [TS Ship Month 2020](https://tsshipmonth2020.tumblr.com/)  
> Read it on Tumblr [HERE](https://hufflepuff-deceit.tumblr.com/post/190693727564/fluffuary-2020-royality)  
> 

Imagine, if you will, Roman’s surprise the day he learned that his husband of three years was stupidly strong.

Patton Sanders-Kingsley was Roman’s happily ever after, his dream come true. The ray of sunshine beaming down from the darkened heavens, bringing warmth to Roman’s soul. The two of them lived in a modest house in a suburban neighbourhood with two storeys and a nice kitchen and delightfully matching furniture. But none of that mattered to Roman. Not really.

What mattered most is that he woke up every day to sunshine streaming in between their bedroom curtains, Patton beside him, their limbs tangled together. When Patton woke up nestled in Roman’s arms, he’d smile and lean up for a good morning kiss. Then they’d mournfully untangle themselves from each other to go about their day. Roman unfortunately has to go to work, designing clothes that could make angels weep, while Patton stayed at home. Roman would come back from work, he’d kiss Patton hello, then they’d have dinner together and go to sleep not knowing where one began and the other ended.

Today though, Roman was allowed to go home early due to some technological mishap with their office scheduling. He took that free time to get several bags of groceries; Patton mentioned off-hand yesterday that he was running low on baking supplies. And since Roman was already buying stuff, he might as well pick up some of Patton’s favourite chips. Roman could also be the one to cook today, so he picked up some meat and fish and chicken and vegetables, driving home with the trunk of his car filled with food.

When he got home, Roman fully expected to see Patton doing something endearingly mundane. Maybe he was baking again; Patton’s homemade confectionery business was really kicking off, and he always had several orders worth of sweets to be working on. Maybe Patton found a show he liked and watched it as he curled up with blankets in the living room. Or maybe Patton wasn’t home at all. Maybe he went out for a walk or volunteered at the animal shelter and maybe Roman had enough time before Patton came home to make spaghetti.

Instead, he found Patton cleaning. That in itself wasn’t unusual. Patton liked to clean, he liked bustling around the house dusting and sweeping and polishing. What was unusual, however, was that Patton only barely reached Roman’s shoulder, yet he quite easily lifted up one side of the couch with one hand as he vacuumed underneath it with the other.

Their living room couch, which Roman always struggled to move.

And Patton held it aloft like it was nothing.

“Roman!” said Patton, gently dropping the couch and turning the vacuum off. Patton smiled resplendently, without breaking a single sweat. “I didn’t know you’d be back so early.” Roman stood dumbfounded as Patton delicately pulled him down for a kiss. “Did you buy groceries?” asked Patton, gesturing to the bag of vegetables Roman had in his hand.

“Uh,” said Roman intelligently, mind reeling, “Yeah. More bags are in the car.”

“Great! I’ll help you put them away.” Roman shifted to the side to let Patton pass through the door. And Roman watched his husband lift several bags bulging with the weight of their contents. And Roman watched Patton as he breezed in through the door, humming a vaguely familiar song as he walked with a bounce in his step.

And, Roman realised, he really liked it when Patton showed off his unusual strength. Most of the time, Patton would manoeuvre heavy furniture around like it was nothing. Other times, Patton lifted a whole sack of flour that Roman struggled to move with nary a grunt. And Roman can’t help but watch in awe.

It took almost two weeks of Roman’s wide-eyed staring before Patton caught on.

They were having dinner (Roman made it, and he will forever cherish the surprised gasp Patton made upon seeing homemade lasagna) and Patton paused mid-bite to ask, “Is everything okay, Roman?”

“You’re really strong,” was Roman’s immediate response. Because he was staring at Patton again over dinner, and he didn’t know why he never noticed it before, and he kept wondering if Patton can carry Roman up the stairs and into their bedroom and he said the first thing that popped into his head.

Patton laughed softly and ducked his head, cheeks flaring up. “Is that weird?”

“No!” Roman answered quickly, maybe too quickly. “It’s really-” hot “-uh, it’s really not weird and I like it very much.” Patton laughed again, though much more freely. “I was just wondering why you always asked me for help with lifting things and stuff. Y’know, since you seem to be doing fine on your own.”

“Well, you like helping me,” answered Patton with a smile. “And I like doing things together with you.”

And again, because the thought wouldn’t leave him alone, Roman opened his mouth and said, “Do you think you can carry me up the stairs?”

Patton didn’t even think twice about it. “Want me to carry you up the stairs after dinner?” he said with a smile and just a hint of mischief in his eyes.

Usually, the two of them washed the dishes after dinner. Tonight, they just dumped everything in the sink as Patton carried Roman up the stairs at a leisurely pace.

Roman trailed kisses down Patton’s neck until they got to the bedroom.


	7. Day 7: LAMP

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bullet fic soulmate AU that got way too long and probably doesn't make any sense

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompts given by [TS Ship Month 2020](https://tsshipmonth2020.tumblr.com/)  
> Read it on Tumblr [HERE](https://hufflepuff-deceit.tumblr.com/post/190708200194/fluffuary-2020-lamp)  
> 

  * Soulmate AU
  * Anything you write on your skin shows up on your soulmates’
  * All of them are in different states doing different things and they don’t meet (or even see each other’s faces) until after graduating highschool
  * But they maintain a soulmate connection from their childhoods until adulthood
  * It starts with a tiny child Virgil, who knows nothing about soulmates, drawing on his arm
  * Less drawing more scribbling actually
  * Stickmen figures and cute swirls and smiley faces
  * Virgil uses purple markers only because that’s his favourite colour
  * All of his doodles manifest as pale violet marks on his soulmates’ arms
  * Of course, some of his soulmates respond as well
  * First to respond was Patton who drew smileys on his arms too
  * Virgil was freaked out at first, but then he realised that he can basically talk to Patton whenever he wants so that’s a plus
  * Child Virgil and child Patton basically go back and forth with misspelled words and attempts at drawing
  * Virgil always uses purple markers or pens to write so he can tell him and Patton apart
  * Patton uses whatever coloured writing implement he has on hand, but it’s usually a light colour
  * Growing up, they were each others’ best friends, even though they lived far away from each other
  * Patton always draws a smiley face on the palm of his hand every morning
  * It tickles a bit, but Virgil always draws a smiley face back, so that’s kind of good
  * Out of all four of them, Patton is most comfortable with the idea of soulmates
  * He just wants to believe that there are people out there who will always be someone’s home, friend, or special person
  * Virgil doesn’t really super believe the whole soulmate being destined or whatever, but he’s happy that he got to meet Patton so he doesn’t really care about it that much
  * Both of them kind of run to each other whenever anything upsetting happens in their lives
  * Patton goes to Virgil so he can have someone to talk to and not feel lonely
  * Patton has this horrible stutter, and other kids make fun of him for not being able to say simple words
  * If he just writes to Virgil, he doesn’t have to speak, and he doesn’t have to feel out of place
  * Plus, Virgil shares his love for light-hearted jokes and it always makes Patton feel light and fluffy inside
  * In contrast, Virgil doesn’t really go to Patton when he’s sad or upset
  * Usually, when Virgil talks to Patton, Virgil is in a happy place
  * Unfortunately, Virgil gets his happy place less than most children
  * Being passed around from foster home to foster home isn’t fun
  * And he wants his and Patton’s time to be fun
  * So Virgil tries to deal with his emotions alone
  * But children need support, and Virgil can’t really parse through his feelings of abandonment and anxiety on his own
  * Patton picks up on it and the two of them have a long conversation
  * Ink is running down their hands as they erase and write over and over again
  * And sometimes the writing becomes ineligible because they spell words wrong, or their hands are shake, or because their tears make it hard to see
  * But in the end, Virgil comes out of it feeling better than he did
  * And he tells Patton when he gets the sad feelings again
  * And the two of them work through it
  * Together
  * Because that’s what soulmates are for
  * Even if they can’t fully understand the difficult concepts Virgil has to deal with
  * Everything's better when he has a shoulder to cry on
  * When they move on from being children to being middle schoolers, Roman joins in on the mix
  * It’s not as if Roman didn’t know that he had soulmates
  * It’s just that Roman is dyslexic. And ADHD. And he never really understood that about himself because no one explained it to him
  * By the time that Roman could decipher Virgil’s ATROCIOUS penmanship and Patton’s “make every letter loopy and cute because I can” handwriting, when he was in kindergarten, Virgil and Patton kind of have a strong friendship thing going
  * And Roman didn’t want to ruin that
  * All his life, Roman had dreamed of finding “the one” for him
  * No one in his life told him that people sometimes have more than one soulmate
  * No one told Roman that these were his soulmates too, and that he can absolutely join in on their conversations
  * He feels that he’s the third wheel, the odd one out, the unwanted part of the triad that would only mess the dynamic up
  * Self-esteem issues meet Roman
  * It was only in middle school that Roman plucked up the courage to actually write on his skin
  * Actually write and not just the small lines of marker he makes on his fingers just so he can see Patton and Virgil ask each other about where the marks came from
  * Roman’s first message to his soulmates was done in the red highlighter his middle-school theatre teacher used to highlight important parts of scripts
  * “So do the two of y’all also have more than one soulmate or is just me?”
  * It took about a minute for Virgil or Patton to respond and it was the most intense minute of Roman’s life
  * Patton, of course, reacted with excitement
  * He had more than one soulmate!!!!! How cool is that?
  * On the other hand, Virgil was more reserved
  * Because while Virgil is an introvert who likes to quietly jam to music in the corner and Roman lived to have the spotlight on him, both of them have self-esteem issues
  * Virgil is hesitating to respond because he, too, thinks that he’s the third-wheel in the soulmate thing and that Roman and Patton are the ones meant to be together
  * Of course, Patton easily disproves this by saying that just because there’s a third person in the group, doesn’t mean that Virgil is suddenly not as important
  * Admittedly, there’s some tension between Roman and Virgil during their early communications
  * Virgil thinks that Roman is hogging all of Patton’s attention to himself and that Roman is being a douchebag about the whole soulmate deal
  * Roman thinks that Virgil can’t wrap his head around the fact that he has more than one soulmate and feels a bit hurt that Virgil, one of his soulmates, seems to be rejecting him
  * There’s a bite and an edge to Virgil and Roman’s messages to each other and Patton tries his best to keep the peace
  * Everything finally culminates to a broiling point when Roman shakily writes out how terrified he was of coming out to Virgil and Patton, how he thinks that he’s disrupted their dynamic and how all he ever wanted was someone who could understand him and appreciate him because Roman doesn’t feel validated at all by the people around him
  * And this kind of hits home for Virgil because he also struggled with this
  * By this point, Virgil was finally taken in by a foster family that might be considering on adopting him and Virgil has a good support system going on, but Roman feels unloved because he had been dubbed a “problem child” due to his neurodivergence
  * And Virgil apologised for lashing out at Roman and also admits that he also had doubts when he realised that there were three of them
  * Roman was just so bright and peppy and energetic and not at all as gloomy as Virgil
  * So Virgil questioned himself
  * And Virgil and Roman make up, and Patton is quick to shower both of them with adoration
  * Both of them are just as quick at returning said sentiments
  * After Roman revealed his difficulty in deciphering Patton and Virgil’s respectively illegible handwriting, they both made an effort to make things easier for Roman
  * Come sophomore year highschool, the three of them have a good thing going
  * Roman is the only one who’s realised that hey, maybe his soulmate thing is romantic instead of platonic
  * Because late at night, he finds himself thinking about Virgil and Patton, trying to figure out what they look like, wondering if they were even into guys
  * Late at night, half-asleep, Roman scribbles onto his arms “hey, i think i like both of y’all. but romantically?”
  * He no longer uses a highlighter, but instead uses a red whiteboard marker instead
  * Roman fell asleep before he got to see their responses
  * In the morning, he was assaulted with his arms being covered in hearts
  * Most of them were pink, some more faded than others, and the rest were blue
  * No purple hearts
  * Virgil actually doesn’t speak to either of them for the day
  * Patton and Roman kind of talk about the whole “i like you romantically” deal
  * They agree to kind of see how things will work out
  * Because it's a long-distance relationship and they don’t even know what the other looks like
  * Virgil speaks to them in the dead of night
  * “I’m not sure”
  * Because Patton and Roman might have eased his doubts, but Virgil’s anxiety doesn’t magically go away
  * He still thinks that maybe it’s better if Roman and Patton date by themselves without Virgil
  * Roman and Patton proceed to tell Virgil that they like him too, but that there’s no pressure on Virgil to immediately give a response
  * So Patton and Roman date until senior year highschool which is the year Virgil finally gives his answer:
  * He wants to meet them, face to face, because Roman and Patton mean so much to him
  * And also Virgil was also kinda maybe interested in the whole polyamorous dating thing
  * They graduate highschool, and the three of them fly out to Florida
  * Upon meeting each other, they immediately hug (in Patton and Roman’s case, some kisses were thrown in there as well)
  * And as they sat down a cafe together, just the three of them, finally able to put faces to the scribbles on their arms, Virgil says that he wants to give the relationship thing a try
  * So the three of them start dating
  * And things were going good
  * Until five years passed, and they all find unfamiliar handwriting on their arms
  * By this point, they have all decided to move to Florida
  * They all got their careers to focus on and this way, they can stay near each other
  * And the three of them are having a good time hanging out when suddenly
  * A shopping list written in black pen materialised
  * Alphabetised
  * And obviously, none of them are writing on their arms
  * So all of them fucking flip
  * There’s a fourth person in their soulmateship
  * A fourth person who has stayed quiet past two decades
  * They’re all adults now, with jobs and taxes and bills
  * And this mysterious fourth person didn’t even say hi until now
  * If he had a choice, Logan wouldn’t even write on his arms
  * He’s lived his whole life without acknowledging the splash of colour on his skin he doesn’t need to start
  * But his phone ran out of batteries and he can’t use his notepad app
  * And he really needed to buy groceries
  * And he didn’t have paper in his car
  * So he wrote the shopping list all over his skin, at least temporarily
  * But the moment he made his existence known, his three soulmates won’t leave him alone
  * Logan gets messages in the morning asking him how he is
  * Logan gets messages in the afternoon wishing him well at work
  * Logan gets messages in the evening reminding him to take care of himself
  * And he’s confused?
  * And overwhelmed?
  * Before the unfortunate soulmate incident, Logan was essentially a stranger
  * Suddenly, these strangers he didn’t know are talking to him as if they were friends
  * It kind of makes Logan uncomfortable at first
  * His second to them ‘ever’ is Logan asking them why they’re reacting this way
  * Logan would rather drop this and forget this whole incident but he’s curious
  * And when he gets his answer, he isn’t satisfied
  * “Because you’re our soulmate”
  * Logan begins pulling out these heavy fucking questions in the morning
  * Things like “are you only interacting with each other because you’re soulmates”
  * And “maybe you should think less about what fate or destiny intended”
  * Which brings the mood down real fucking quick
  * The Virgil/Roman tension of middle school is back, but this time, it’s Logan with every single member of their quartet
  * Doesn’t get along with Roman because Roman is all “fate this” and “destiny that” and Logan can’t stand the thought that his path is a predetermined one
  * If all of this is fate, if some cosmic force decided that this is what happens to Logan, then all he’s been through the last two decades meant nothing
  * And Roman can’t stand Logan’s monotonous, routine lifestyle where all he does is work work work. There’s no passion, no adventure
  * Logan doesn’t get along with Virgil either
  * Not to the extent of his feud with Roman, but Logan doesn’t care for Virgil clinging so desperately to soul marks
  * And Virgil doesn’t care for how Logan tried to pass himself off as being driven by logic when clearly, there’s something more under the surface
  * But most of all, Logan doesn’t get along with Patton
  * Patton is the one who loves the concept of soulmates most
  * He’s the one who first reached out to Logan once he learned that they were connected
  * Patton believes that they are all soulmates for a reason 
  * And Logan dislikes that
  * To Logan, these people are staying together based on nothing but their mutual connection to each other by some wishy-washy decree of fate
  * And to Patton, he doesn’t understand why Logan so vehemently denies the mere concept of soulmates
  * Tensions are high, negativity all abound, Logan decided that it’s best if he doesn’t associate with them any more and chooses not to write to his soulmates further
  * So now Patton, Roman, and Virgil write notes on their skin knowing that there’s a fourth person who wants nothing to do with them
  * But shit ain’t over
  * See, Logan may have communicated with his three soulmates, but he doesn’t know any of their names; he only knew them as the different coloured markers they use to identify each other
  * And it just so happens that while Logan was minding his business, reading in a park on a lovely day, a man approached him
  * Completely friendly, with a smile on his face and he asks to sit with Logan
  * And since it won’t bother him too much, Logan agreed
  * The stranger apparently caught sight of the novel Logan was reading and decided to strike a conversation about it, because he likes the novel too
  * And even though Logan is supposed to be enjoying his “no people talking to me” day, he kind of likes this guy, so he talks
  * They go out for coffee and they talk about the book and about other things and in the end, they exchange phone numbers
  * That man’s name was Patton
  * So Logan and Patton became friends
  * They hung out during the weekends talking books and movies and tv shows
  * Then they talked about other things like science and art
  * Even though the guy has a bit of a stutter and keeps confusing one word for another, Logan enjoys his company
  * As the days turned to weeks to months, Logan meets Patton’s other friends; Roman and Virgil
  * And even though Logan and Roman got into a tizzy arguing about careers and life choices within their first ten minutes of meeting, Logan gets along with all three of them really well
  * The four of them hang out together regularly
  * Then after almost a year, Patton casually mentions that Patton and Roman and Virgil are soulmates
  * And that prompts Logan to talk about how he views the concept of soulmates altogether. How he thinks it’s foolish and illogical for people to cling to relationships that are falling apart just because they have a mark
  * And Patton kind of opens up too
  * About how he thought that because people were soulmates, that automatically meant that they would get along forever
  * Patton never considered how other people viewed soulmates differently, or how it can be unhealthy to expect people to stay together simply because of the “we’re soulmates” reason
  * See, the thing is, after the fourth person in their soulmate quartet left, they left some wounds that scarred
  * Virgil and Roman began contemplating on their mystery fourth person’s questions: what being soulmates mean to them, why they got together in the first place
  * Basically, for a while after their fourth soulmate proposed armour piercing questions, Virgil and Roman took a step back to see what’s going on and try to re-evaluate their lives
  * Not that they stopped loving Patton or each other
  * Just reviewed their stance and how that coloured their relationship
  * And Patton kind of didn’t do that
  * Patton kind of barreled on expecting that everything would work out and it kind of alienated both Virgil and Roman from him
  * Of course things worked out in the end, after much communication, deliberation, and reflection
  * But sometimes Patton can’t help but think of what would have happened if he didn’t try to see their perspective on things
  * And it makes him really sad
  * And also really grateful that he learned to view their soulmate bond with more nuance
  * Patton fixed things up with both Virgil and Roman
  * The three of them are still together
  * But there are healthy boundaries now, and an unspoken agreement that the three of them should put effort in to make the relationship work instead of just hoping that fate will help them out
  * This in turn, makes Logan think about his own soulmates, the ones he snapped at a year ago
  * Not that he has any intention of being a part of their quartet
  * Logan is quite happy where he is in life
  * With Patton, with Virgil, with Roman
  * He didn’t need his soulmates to make his life fulfilling
  * Logan still doesn’t believe in fate or destiny, but maybe he can at least make things right
  * After a year of ignoring his soulmates, Logan writes a message on his arm
  * An apology for the way he behaved the last time
  * Things don’t magically get better after that
  * Logan was still an outsider in that quartet, and the person who wrote in Red never quite forgave him
  * But Logan at least stopped the relationship from being purely antagonistic
  * And some days, he finds that watching his soulmates talk back and forth while he was at work relaxing
  * They include Logan in on their conversations too
  * Logan doesn’t always participate, but the sentiment is there
  * And he had no intention of connecting with his pre-determined soulmates, but they have an odd friendship anyway
  * Logan gets along especially well with the soulmate who writes in blue
  * Maybe he’ll introduce him to Patton one day




	8. Day 8: Loceit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Damian saw his ex at a club and flirts with Logan because no way in hell was he giving that bastard son of a bitch motherfucker the satisfaction of seeing him alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompts given by [TS Ship Month 2020](https://tsshipmonth2020.tumblr.com/)  
> Read it on Tumblr [HERE](https://hufflepuff-deceit.tumblr.com/post/190726376234/fluffuary-2020-loceit)  
>   
> CW: minor alcohol consumption

“Shit,” Damian hissed under his breath, gripping his glass a little too tight. Even with the club’s flashing lights and the sea of undulating bodies on the dancefloor between the bar and the front door, Damian recognised the face that just walked through. Tonight was supposed to be Damian’s chance to unwind. So why in the hell was his ex here?

Just thinking about the ugly breakup between himself and Josh brought a nasty headache. It soured Damian’s previously jovial mood. Even though Damian downed his drink and asked for another in an attempt to chase it away, his head still pulsed with barely controlled irritation and spite. The universe just  _ had _ to pull this kind of shit on Damian’s day off, didn’t it?

Fuck.

If Josh saw Damian alone, he’d be a smug bastard about it. Damian could almost imagine his grating voice gnawing away at what little patience he had left. Shit about how he could “never be replaced” and how “Damian will always love him” even though he was a cheating asshole and it was his fault they broke up in the first place. “Shit,” Damian said once again, with more feeling. He can’t allow that to happen. There had to be something he could do to hide from Josh, or at the very least, deter Josh from approaching.

Then Damian spotted a man sitting alone in a booth, idly nursing a drink. He was handsome enough, with glasses perched delicately on the bridge of his nose and his eyes laser-focused on a small book in his hands.

Across the dancefloor, Josh moved steadily towards the bar. He hasn’t spotted Damian. Yet. “Fuck it,” Damian decided and downed yet another glass. When it got refilled, he picked it up and moved to approach the stranger.

Damian didn’t really plan on going home with someone else tonight. But if his ex is in here, no way in hell was Damian giving that bastard son of a bitch motherfucker the satisfaction of seeing him alone at a bar. No, that ungrateful sack of rotten carrots spewed forth from hell’s fiery pits was going to look at Damian having fun with a handsome man and fucking  _ weep _ . Besides, the stranger only got more attractive the closer Damian got.

“Mind if I sit with you?” asked Damian with a disarming smile, making sure to lean in close enough that he could be heard even through the pounding music.

The stranger looked up from his book. “I don’t mind. Please sit.” Damian almost choked on his tongue. He didn’t believe in God, but if He existed, Damian wanted to thank Him. Damian was colourblind; deuteranopic. Yellow and blue are the two colours he can actually identify. And this man’s eyes were the bluest thing Damian had ever seen. Damian almost missed the space beside the stranger when he tried to sit down.

“If I can ask,” the stranger began, “why did you choose to sit with me?”

Because I’m a spiteful vindictive snake who wants my ex to know that I couldn't give a shit about him by flirting with a complete stranger so he doesn’t see me alone. “I found you interesting,” Damian said instead. The stranger quirked a brow up. When he turned so the two of them were face to face, Damian caught the author the stranger was reading. “It’s not often I meet someone so engaged with McMahan’s work.”

“It’s not often I meet someone who knows who he is,” the stranger responded. He put the book down and offered his hand. “My name is Logan.”

“Damian.” He shook Logan’s hand. “Do you often come to clubs just to read? I can’t imagine the scent of alcohol and sweat being conducive to your reading.”

He got a smile in return for that. “I wanted to observe people,” said Logan. “Social interaction isn’t one of my strong suits, admittedly. I find myself lacking in understanding body language and micro-expressions. Coming to a club and observing the patrons was an opportunity for me to improve.” Damian had to lean closer to hear Logan’s smooth baritone. The music was loud and Damian already had trouble with hearing on a normal day. Thankfully, Logan didn’t seem to mind. “To my understanding, it is socially acceptable to observe others in establishments like this.”

“Reading in populated locations don’t bother me,” said Damian. It was easy to tune people out, especially if your hearing wasn’t as good in the first place. “Though I have to admit; reading about the Ethics of Killing in such a lively place isn’t something I’d do. Watching drunk and desperate idiots while reading something so heavy feels a bit dissonant.”

Logan laughed. At least, Damian thinks he did. It was breathless kind of laughter, a little more of a chuckle now that he thought about it. “What would you read in a situation like this?”

Damian paused for a minute, thinking. Logan patiently waited. “There’s never a wrong place to read Agamben. I enjoy his philosophies quite a bit.” Logan gave an affirmative hum. Damian downed his drink before continuing. “But for this particular scenario, I’d have to say David Lewis. Thinking about modal realism with the hormonal mess displayed before this club,” Damian gestured to a particularly shameless couple on the dancefloor who seems to have forgotten that they were in public, “is quite mentally engaging. Somewhere out there, there’s a world where that woman is wearing a dress that actually fits. Somewhere out there, there’s a world where this club has better taste in music.”

“Somewhere out there, there’s a world where you didn’t approach me.” Logan took a sip of his drink. “Though I’m glad that it isn’t this one.” Was- was Logan flirting? Oh, he was, cheeky thing. “You’ve given me a lot to consider,” said Logan. “Admittedly, I prefer the studies of Descartes myself.”

“A bit of a rationalist, aren’t you?” Damian interjected with a smirk.

Logan’s lips quirked upwards. “Of course. Most philosophers of his time used divine reasoning to support their arguments. Descartes relied on no one and nothing but himself, using logic and reasoning to sway the masses and further the understanding of the world.”

Before Damian could respond, a shadow loomed over their table. Josh leered at Damian whilst simultaneously side-eying Logan. He reeked of alcohol and had a large stain on the front of his shirt. His eyes were bloodshot. Truly, it was a talent to be this irritating.

“Heyyyyyy, Damian,” Josh slurred, tongue sliding over his teeth with all the grace of a bull elephant on an ice rink. “Wanna go back to my place? I’ll forgive you for breaking up with me.” Distantly, Damian lamented the fact that he’d already finished his drink; he would have loved to empty it onto Josh’s face.

Logan interrupted, “Unfortunately, that won’t be happening.” Josh narrowed his eyes and scowled. He did not look as intimidating as he might have hoped. “I’m afraid he’s no longer with you,” Logan continued, calmly. Then he stood up, a hand on Damian’s back to urge him up from his seat as well. Logan was tall, Damian realised. Damian barely reached his shoulder. “Damian and I were just leaving. I would wish you a good night, but I doubt you could have one.” And Logan grabbed his book off the table, and strode away, arm in arm with Damian. Josh stood dumbfounded with his mouth hanging agape. He quickly faded from view as Damian and Logan walked out the front door.

The night air was cool against Damian’s flushed skin. Most of it was from the alcohol; he was no lightweight, but he did have quite a few drinks. Damian suspects that a bit of the redness in his cheeks was because of Logan, though he’d never admit to it.

Once they were a few paces away from the club, Logan stopped and released Damian’s arm. “I apologise if I overstepped. You became quite uncomfortable when that man approached, and I thought it best if you were removed from the situation. I might have misread the situation, however.”

Damian waved his hand. “You didn’t misread anything. Josh is an asshole and a cheater.”

“I assume that he was the reason you approached me?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I supposed that somewhere out there, there was a world where you approached someone else to avoid that man,” said Logan, echoing their previous conversation. “Though I’m glad it isn’t this one.”

Damian laughed against the chilly air, his voice echoing in the empty street. “I’m glad it isn’t this one too.”

“You mentioned enjoying Agamben’s philosophies,” Logan continued. “My apartment is not far from here. Would you be interested in talking there?”

“Just talk?” Damian teased.

“Probably not,” was Logan’s reply.

The two of them talked on their way back to Logan’s apartment. Though the talking stopped the moment they closed the door.

Not that Damian was complaining.


	9. Day 9: Roceit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 3 times Roman called Deceit adorable, and 1 time Deceit returned the favour

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompts given by [TS Ship Month 2020](https://tsshipmonth2020.tumblr.com/)  
> Read it on Tumblr [HERE](https://hufflepuff-deceit.tumblr.com/post/190750105014/fluffuary-2020-roceit)  
> technically late but uh. its the 9th somewhere in the world soooo

“You’re adorable,” Roman said to Deceit once. There was rarely ever a quiet moment in the Mindscape; the Sides were constantly handling one dilemma after another: always busy and never stagnant. Whenever a fleeting instant of peace came, the two of them spent it together.

Though the look Deceit gave him after that statement said that he might be regretting that decision, at least a little bit. “I am a snake, you idiot.” Whether it was out of irritation or as a point of emphasis, Deceit hissed at him. He turned his head to the side ever so slightly, giving Roman a better view of the thick scales gracing the half of his body. “I am a cold, dangerous creature. A fucking Dark Side. I am the furthest thing from adorable.”

Roman had disagreed then, he  _ still _ disagrees actually, but he let it go with a laugh.

After much effort and arguing and self-realisation, Deceit was accepted. He was a known and important part of Thomas. Not all of his suggestions were welcome of course, but he was no longer met with hostility.

On one hand, Deceit loved it. He’d never say it out loud, of course, but Roman could tell. His eyes gleamed happily whenever Thomas (or any of the other Sides) looked to him for his input. And Deceit reveled in their attention. He was like Roman in a sense: always looking for approval. Praise. Acceptance and recognition. Deceit was more reserved about those desires, but they were there regardless.

On the other hand, Deceit chased the fear and distrust and formidability of when he was still viewed as a villain. The high of Patton looking at him with suspicion, the way Logan narrowed his eyes, the almost scathing banter between him and Virgil. Thomas used to talk to him with revulsion, but with respect as well. Respect for his power, his authority, the danger he poses. Unwilling respect, but respect nonetheless.

It was a contradiction, and Deceit was full of contradictions. He wanted to be liked and disliked, trusted and distrusted, welcomed and feared. All at once. Deceit knew this. Not much can be done, it was his nature after all, but he knew.

So why is it that he can’t quite grasp the contradiction that Roman could clearly see in him?

Deceit was dangerous, still dangerous, but he was also quite adorable. Though he didn’t use it much anymore, Deceit could still force the other Sides into silence whenever he wants. At the same time, Deceit also giggled adorably as the human half of his face flushed in a shade of red so vibrant, roses paled in comparison. He was unfairly cute. And handsome. Perhaps even more than Roman, but no one had to know that part.

.

“You’re adorable,” Roman said to him again. It was an absentminded breath, spoken without permission as he contented himself with observing Deceit.

The two of them sat close together in the sanctuary of Deceit’s room, surrounded by snakes. Most of them had draped over Roman like a writhing, sentient blanket; a blanket that also hissed softly. The inside of Roman’s left wrist was a little damp from the occasional flickering tongue.

There was only one snake coiled over Deceit, but she was massive. A long and thick yellow python with sharp eyes and sharper fangs, circled around Deceit’s limbs and torso as though she were a scaly robe. Deceit called her Eden, when he introduced her to Roman, and she only regarded him with a cool gaze as she slithered over to her master. Deceit introduced his other snakes to Roman as well, and while he loved them all dearly, it was clear that Eden was a favourite. And she knew it. And Roman knew it. Deceit cooed at her so gently, so tenderly, Roman couldn’t help but feel jealous. And it prompted his aforementioned statement: You’re adorable.

As soon as he said it though, Deceit paused his gentle caress of Eden’s head to level Roman with a sour gaze. “Eden can crush a man’s windpipe without so much as a moment’s hesitation. I am sitting here with her draped around my throat. What, pray tell, is adorable about that?”

_ Your eyes sparkle like sunlight when you look at her. Your fangs poke out just the tiniest bit and you smile so brightly, I feel like I’ve been blessed. I want you to look at me that way, but I’m happy just seeing you look so content. _

What came out of Roman’s mouth instead, was: “Blep.”

“Blep?” echoed Deceit, his brows drawing together in a mix of amusement and irritation. “Explain.”

A part of Roman wants to play a prank. Say something absolutely nonsensical and tick Deceit off  _ just _ enough to see that expression deepen. But a part of him wanted to see Deceit’s reaction to the word once he knew what it meant. That part won.

“It’s that thing you do with your tongue when you’re happy.” Roman stuck his tongue out just a little bit and grinned. “See? This is a blep.”

“I don’t  _ do _ that,” Deceit protested. Eden slithered around her master’s neck until Deceit could see her face. If snakes could look amused, that’s what Eden looked like. “Traitor.” Eden stuck her tongue out just a little bit, mimicking -and perhaps making fun of- her master. “Traitor,” Deceit said again.

.

“You’re adorable,” Roman said to Deceit, wheezing with laughter. After the ‘blep’ revelation, Deceit took extra care to watch when his tongue was poking out of his mouth without permission. It meant that Roman saw Deceit’s forked tongue flickering out less often, but it also meant that Roman could see the mix of embarrassment, irritation, and resignation that crossed Deceit’s face for only a moment whenever he catches himself doing bleps.

But at times like this, with Roman and Deceit in the living room shoulder-to-shoulder, controllers in their hands and a game on the tv, Deceit couldn’t care less about it.

Especially when he just kicked Roman’s ass at Mario Kart for the seventh time in a row. Deceit got so smug about it afterwards that it was a little irritating, but he was also just so happy about it that Roman can’t bring himself to dislike it. And if he can’t get irritated at Deceit being so thrilled at beating Roman again, then he could at least tease Deceit.

Surprisingly, Deceit didn’t shy away this time. In fact, he stuck out his tongue even more. Childishly. His human eye crinkled with delight and the beaming smile on his face. “You’re just upset that I keep winning.”

“Fuck you, Deceit,” Roman growled, though not with malice.

The smirk Deceit gave him in response may or may not have caused Roman’s heart to skip a beat. Or several. And it may or may not have made Roman’s breath hitch, or made his cheeks flush, or made butterflies dance in the pit of his gut.

“You wish, dear Prince.”

_ God, I do _ , thought Roman.  _ I do wish. _

Fortunately, or unfortunately, Deceit stopped teasing him. They were still sitting together, but the air between them changed. There was tension now. It was a welcome tension, like the smell of ozone in the air just before a storm, or a glass bowl half-off the table just waiting to fall. Roman swung his legs over Deceit’s and Deceit let him.

In between their races, Deceit dropped one hand to softly massage circles into Roman’s leg. Roman wished that Deceit’s gloves were off, and that he was instead holding Roman’s hand.

Deceit gave him a look that maybe meant that he wanted it too.

.

“You’re  _ adorable _ ,” Deceit said to Roman. Cooed, more like, in that lilting saccharine voice that had the power to seduce anyone Deceit wanted to, even God or the Devil. And Deceit said that to him with such a soft look in his eyes that if Roman wasn’t lying in bed already, he might have swooned.

“I’m not,” Roman argued weakly, fingers reaching up to tangle in Deceit’s hair. Deceit’s hat was gone, his capelet too. Both were tossed somewhere in the room, right beside Roman’s shirt. And Roman was grateful for it. If he still had his shirt, Deceit won’t be able to trail sloppy kisses up Roman’s skin. From his chest to his shoulder, to the hollow of his throat.

“You are.” The words were given form into his skin, pressed so deeply that Roman might have felt it deep in his bones and soul. It was not a coo, not Deceit’s suave, saccharine, seductive voice. It was not the biting tone he used when he argued with the other Sides. It was not prideful or confident.

It was a whisper. It was vulnerable. It was a prayer that Deceit breathed onto his skin with delicate passion.

And Roman didn’t really feel like he was  _ adorable _ but he didn’t really want to argue. Why argue about words when he can pull Deceit up by the hair and drink in the delicious gasp he gave? Why argue when Roman could instead lock their lips together in a deep kiss with teeth and tongue? Why argue when he could move his hands from Deceit’s hair to his shoulders and flip their positions?

“You’re adorable,” Roman echoed with a grin.

For once, Deceit didn’t dispute it. He merely grinned back, and his fangs poked out just the tiniest bit. Roman wondered what those fangs would feel like in his skin.

Deceit looked like he was wondering the same thing.


	10. Day 10: Moceit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was originally an actual fic, but I had to change it to a bullet fic instead. I WILL write an actual proper fic for Moceit in the future though bc this pairing is underrated

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompts given by [TS Ship Month 2020](https://tsshipmonth2020.tumblr.com/)  
> Read it on Tumblr [HERE](https://hufflepuff-deceit.tumblr.com/post/190770673969/fluffuary-2020-moceit)  
> 

  * Damian and Patton are complete opposites
  * Patton works as a defense attorney who does a lot of volunteer work
  * Damian is an acclaimed mystery novelist who is a bit of an asshole
  * Patton is a little ball of sunshine and kindness
  * Damian over here can make a brick wall cry with just a look
  * By chance or by fate, the two of them met completely on accident
  * It’s in a coffee shop
  * Damian goes there to inhale caffeine like oxygen and write bc the ambience helps
  * Patton usually goes there whenever he has a particularly stressful case
  * That morning, Patton’s case got rescheduled but he’s already there so might as well get some coffee
  * While he’s in line, he overhears Damian mumbling to himself as he types furiously into a laptop
  * Damian is a mystery novelist, and that requires a lot of research
  * Right now, he’s researching legal procedures for a specific and important scene
  * And for the life of him, he can’t figure out a particular section about the legality of inheritances
  * Patton hears him angrily seething at his screen and he goes to talk to Damian
  * At first, Damian is hesitant to talk to him
  * He came to the coffee shop to work on his next novel, not to chat
  * But Patton kind of got through to him by saying that he’s a lawyer and he can help Damian with the nitty gritty details he’s having trouble with
  * It helps too that Patton doesn’t say anything about Damian’s vitiligo or his heterochromia
  * Basically, Patton spent a couple of hours of his morning helping an author figure out how to get away with murder legally
  * When noon rolled around, they both had to leave
  * Patton because he promised a local shelter he’ll be there to help around
  * Damian because he has to run some errands since he lives alone
  * Neither of them expect to see the other again
  * Lo and behold, they see each other again
  * This time at a party thrown by a mutual friend
  * Again, Damian keeps to himself in the corner, not really hiding from social interaction, but not really welcoming it either
  * Whenever someone talks to him, he makes polite conversation, but his words have a bite to it that kind of makes it clear that he’s only in this party to be polite to the host
  * Patton spots him and strikes up a conversation again
  * Since Damian is bored, he indulges Patton, even though he plans to leave in the next hour
  * That hour turns to an hour and a half
  * Then to two hours
  * Then Damian goes home, but he doesn’t go home alone
  * Patton goes home with him
  * The two of them have a lovely night talking and doing other things
  * And it kind of became a pattern
  * Whenever either of them have free time, they’d meet up
  * Hang out, go to dinner, watch a movie, do other things
  * Damian is fine with that
  * Patton not so much
  * Because along the way, as he gets to know Damian a lot more, Patton kind of likes him
  * As more than a friend way
  * Yeah, Damian was an asshole but he’s not a bad person
  * He’s just sarcastic and pushes everyone close to him away because he’s afraid of getting close to someone
  * If he gets close to someone, he might get hurt
  * But even though Damian always says that their relationship is strictly no string attached purely for fun
  * He still remembers the little details
  * He remembered Patton’s bday and gave him homemade cake
  * It looked a little lopsided, but Damian still spent effort and time to make it
  * And every now and again, whenever they went on one of their “friend dates”, Patton would catch Damian looking at him every now and again
  * And Damian looks so goddamn soft
  * When Patton brings that up and wonders if maybe Damian’s interested in being more than just friends with benefits
  * Damian is silent
  * It takes him a while to admit that he’s liked Patton for a while now
  * But was unsure about pursuing a relationship
  * Damian’s last relationship ended in disaster and he didn’t even get to stay friends with his ex anymore
  * And he likes Patton
  * Patton is kind and caring, and he tries to be so understanding of Damian even if Damian can sometimes be cranky
  * He doesn’t want to drift away when the relationship ends
  * And Damian is convinced it will end
  * Because he doesn’t exactly have a good track record in relationships
  * Patton deserves better
  * And Patton kind of just shuts all of that down?
  * Because he likes Damian and he hates it when Damian says mean things about himself
  * Although Damian projects this aura of “cant touch this” he’s pretty soft inside
  * There are lots of insecurities and doubt hidden away by his sarcasm and wit
  * Deeper still are his fears. What if he isn’t good enough?
  * And Patton kind of gets that
  * Because while he tries to be as kind and as open as he possibly can, sometimes words get to him
  * Sometimes it’s hard to keep smiling
  * But Damian makes it easier for him
  * Patton makes it easier for Damian too
  * So after a few moments of silence and deliberation, Damian agrees
  * After all, they were basically dating in the past already, right?
  * This just makes it official
  * It turns out, actually officially for realsies dating is a lot more fun
  * They do a lot more “couple-y” stuff like holding hands
  * Not that Damian is big on PDA but there’s nothing wrong with holding hands with Patton as they walk home together
  * Patton still helps Damian with some legal stuff in his novel
  * They’ve been engaged when Damian finally finishes
  * He dedicates the book to “The love of my life”




	11. Day 11: Anxceit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deceit tries to make Virgil's Valentine's day gift

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompts given by [TS Ship Month 2020](https://tsshipmonth2020.tumblr.com/)  
> Read it on Tumblr [HERE](https://hufflepuff-deceit.tumblr.com/post/190782327499/fluffuary-2020-anxceit)  
> 

Deceit adored his scales. Really, he did! It was just so much fun having scales on his hand that kept him from performing more dexterous activities. Like knitting. Which he was trying to do now. Moving his fingers were difficult when fucking scales were in the way and Deceit just loved having to waste more time than necessary on this stupid thing.

“I could have chosen a blanket,” Deceit hissed to himself, straightening out a particularly stubborn thread. “It would have been so much simpler.” But did he choose to do the simple, easy thing? No. Deceit made everything so goddamn complicated and was consigned to sit on the couch and grumble angrily at himself as he attempted to knit this beast of a pattern.

Spiders, it turned out, were difficult to knit. Their legs and their bodies and their eyes were a nightmare. Deceit had finished most of it: the fat, round body, and six of its eight legs. Only two more legs to go. And the head. If Deceit kept working through the night, he’d finish it in time for Valentine’s tomorrow.

Soft footsteps broke the silence of the house. The stairs creaked under the weight of Virgil’s feet and Deceit lamented the fact that he didn’t finish in time. “Dee?” Virgil frowned, rubbing the sleepiness from his eyes. “It’s midnight. Why are you still awake?”

“I could ask you the same thing, Little Spider,” said Deceit with just the slightest quirk of his lips. “Can’t sleep?”

“Nightmares,” replied Virgil. He said nothing more, but Deceit understood anyway: Virgil didn’t want to be alone.

Although he wanted the blasted knitted spider to be a surprise for Valentine’s day, he wanted Virgil to feel better even more. Deceit set aside his thread and needles and scooted down the couch. There was enough space for Virgil to lie down beside him. And Virgil did, kicking off his shoes and shuffling onto the couch. Deceit briefly wished that he had a blanket, if only to quell Virgil’s slight tremor.

“Want me to get you a blanket?” Virgil shook his head. “Just want to sleep?” Virgil nodded. Deceit sighed. “Okay. Close your eyes. I’ll stay here.”

Virgil did. He sidled up on the couch, long legs curling close as he rested his head on Deceit’s lap. Deceit had to twist just a little bit so he could continue knitting without disturbing Virgil. “What are you doing?” Virgil mumbled sleepily.

“Knitting.”

“A spider?”

“No,” said Deceit. “Yes, I tried to make it look like your spider. What was her name… Susan. We both know you just adore sleeping alone, but you can’t exactly hug a spider while you sleep.” Virgil made a noise of agreement. Susan was small, and Virgil’s constantly shifting body might accidentally hurt her. “So I’m making you something that looks like her so you can have something to hug while you sleep. Not that I care about it, or anything.”

“I’m sure you don’t.”

“I don’t,” said Deceit. Virgil let out a breath of laughter. Soon, his breathing slowed, and his shoulders relaxed. Deceit kept knitting, of course, but every now and again, he stopped to brush Virgil’s hair back.


	12. Day 12: DLAMP

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said to hufflepuff-deceit:  
> For the prompt, how about Deceit being in a cuddle pile of boyfriends because he's cold?
> 
> Here you go anon. I am so sorry this is late

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompts given by [TS Ship Month 2020](https://tsshipmonth2020.tumblr.com/)  
> Read it on Tumblr [HERE](https://hufflepuff-deceit.tumblr.com/post/190832057884/fluffuary-2020-dlamp)  
> 

  * Deceit is a notorious blanket thief
  * No matter how many blankets Roman conjures up for him, it never seems to be enough
  * At first, Deceit would nick some of the spare blankets in the closet
  * Then, Deceit would take the other Sides’ blankets
  * Now, whenever the weather gets sufficiently cold, Deceit grabs whatever is warm and cozy and steals them away for a nest
  * Just a huge pile of sweaters and jackets and blankets
  * Thing is, Deceit does it in random places
  * Sometimes, he’s in his room with blankets piled up so high his face couldn’t be seen anymore
  * Other times, he goes into one of the other Sides’ room and cuddles them until their alarm rings
  * Not that anyone has actually escaped one of Deceit’s infamous hugs
  * Six arms; good for hugging, better are making sure his portable heaters don’t go anywhere
  * At this point, it’s common knowledge to accept the fact that if Deceit has chosen you to be his morning heater, there’s no getting out it
  * He has ambushed Logan in his study and kept him from doing any research by sitting in Logan’s lap and burying his face in Logan’s neck
  * Patton has once been convinced by Deceit to sit on the couch just for a few minutes and ended with the two of them in a mess of tangled limbs as Deceit sleeps
  * Usually, Virgil doesn’t fall for it but sometimes, it’s hard to resist just cuddling your boyfriend as he saps your body warmth to get ready for the day
  * Most of the time, he’s with Roman. The two of them would be in Roman’s room, watching bootleg copies of musicals until one of them falls asleep and wakes up surrounded by blankets
  * The issue is when Deceit starts making his blanket/sweater/jacket nest somewhere else in the house that isn’t easily found
  * Out of the five of them, Deceit is the shortest
  * And most flexible
  * To top it all off, he knows the best places in the house where he could curl up uninterrupted
  * Many a morning has been spent frantically searching for a local snake man who somehow managed to sleep on top of the goddamn fridge wrapped in a comically pink hello kitty blanket
  * But as the months grow colder, Deceit became increasingly harder to find
  * At one point, Logan almost screamed when he opened his closet to find Deceit curled up with several articles of clothing draped over him to provide additional insulation because apparently, stealing Virgil’s weighted blanket in the middle of the night wasn’t enough
  * Roman actually did scream when he turned on the bathroom lights and found Deceit sleeping in the goddamn tub. He denies it of course, but there’s only one Side who can scream at that high a pitch
  * Everyone is polite enough not to mention it
  * Deceit would undoubtedly tease him if he knew, but even though Roman screamed in the same room as him, Deceit remained fast asleep
  * With the increasingly odd places they discover Deceit, Virgil finally came up with a solution
  * If the weather was too cold for Deceit, they’d all just gather in his room instead of sleeping separately
  * They all gather in Deceit’s room like a huge sleepover so Deceit doesn’t feel alone or get cold
  * Virgil brings the blankets. He has the best and warmest ones, weighted to quell his anxiety and some are fur-lined to keep as much heat in as possible
  * As always, Patton’s in charge of the food. Most of the time, it’s snacks like cookies and brownies but once or twice he brings in some pasta
  * Roman is in charge of the movie choice. Sure, they all want to sleep and Deceit currently holds title of “best hugger” because of his six arms and falling asleep on top of each other is a regular occurrence, but it’s a lot more fun to watch a movie while they wait to doze off
  * Every time, Deceit says he’ll stay awake for THIS movie
  * Every time, he’s the first to fall asleep and reflexively reach out with all six arms to mass hug everyone
  * It’s partly because everyone is warm and Deceit loves being hugged by all of his boyfriends to keep out the cold
  * Partly because Logan usually sits next to or behind him and massages his scalp
  * Or the scales at the base of his neck
  * It doesn’t take long for Deceit to pass out from contentment after that
  * Everyone still crowds around him to watch the movies
  * All of them are close together, their limbs in a messy tangle
  * No one knows who falls asleep first but by the time they wake up, they’re all covered in blankets and lying down comfortably




	13. Day 13: Intrulogical

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Logan makes Remus a handmade Valentine's present
> 
> CW: implied sexual content, one implied mention of Remus biting hard enough to draw blood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompts given by [TS Ship Month 2020](https://tsshipmonth2020.tumblr.com/)  
> Read it on Tumblr [HERE](https://hufflepuff-deceit.tumblr.com/post/190834524259/fluffuary-2020-intrulogical)  
> 

Flowers and chocolate and poetry were the traditional gifts one would provide for a significant other on Valentines Day. Logan was not familiar with flowers and chocolate and poetry. Oh, he could identify every known species of flora and he could list of the chemical makeup of Remus’ favourite chocolate and he had poetry memorised so well he could whisper it in his sleep, but they would not make adequate gifts.

They were too impersonal for a Valentines Day present. They were generic. Ordinary. As Remus would say, they were “basic bitches” and Logan wanted something  _ more _ . Wanted something that spoke to him as much as it spoke to Remus. Something uniquely them. He hoped that the box in his hands would be adequate enough. Though Logan has had weeks of planning, doubt and nervousness began to creep in the closer he got to Remus’ half of the imagination. Perhaps Logan should have made something else. Perhaps he should have spent more time planning. Perhaps he should have at least tried to hide the scent of gunpowder clinging to his skin.

All too soon, and not soon enough, Logan stood before his lover. Remus grinned lazily up at him, already sitting down on a messily-arranged picnic blanket. Food was laid out on matching jagged plates, and a bottle of wine sat cooling in a skull-shaped bucket. As soon as Logan sat down, Remus snapped his fingers, and the once dry desert-like afternoon of the Imagination shifted to an inky night. The skies turned to a dark navy blue with stars too bright to be realistic spanning across the horizon.

“If it isn’t Isaac Nerdton himself,” Remus said, smiling just a tad wide enough to tread into the uncanny. His teeth looked a little sharper than usual. “You’re a little late. Having fun without me?”

Despite the bite in his tone, Logan knew that Remus was simply playing. “Forgive my tardiness, Love.” Almost instantly, every muscle in Remus’ body relaxed. Logan will never get tired of the undivided attention Remus gave him. How his eyes traced Logan’s every move. How the simplicity of Logan’s presence was enough to make Remus relax. “I was making your present,” said Logan. Hopefully, Remus would like it.

As soon as Logan set the box down between them, Remus grabbed both his wrists. “You said you were ‘making’ my present.” Logan hummed in agreement as Remus pulled him closer, until his hand was against Remus’ face. “What’s in the box, Logi? Is it something  _ fun _ ? Something we can play with?”

Logan laughed, curling his fingers against Remus’ cheek. “In a way, I suppose. It’s not what you’re thinking of, unfortunately.”

“Oh? ‘Unfortunately,’ you say.”

“Unfortunately for you,” Logan corrected. “I made fireworks.”

It’s not what Remus expected, Logan could tell, but it didn’t mean that Remus disliked his present. There was a manic grin in his eyes, and for the first time since Logan arrived, Remus stopped looking at him to glance excitedly at the box. “What kind?”

“Homemade,” answered Logan. “The loud kind. The kind that spirals into interesting shapes. The kind that explodes into hundreds of little pieces and leaves a lingering scent behind.”

“My favourite,” Remus purred as he leaned back. Logan followed him, shifting the box a little bit to the side so he can seat himself on Remus’ lap. Remus grinned and licked a stripe against Logan’s wrist. “You smell like gunpowder.”

“Yes. I should have been more careful while making the fireworks, but things got messy.”

Logan felt a small pinprick of pain against his arm where Remus’ teeth nicked his skin. When he looked down, Remus was beaming up at him, teeth a little red. “I like messy.” 

“I know, Love.” Logan smiled and leaned down for a kiss. Remus was rough as he always was, but Logan didn’t mind a bit. “Do you want to set them off now? I made quite a lot of them.” Logan took Remus’ eager nod as a yes, and slid off Remus’ lap. If he sets them out, Remus can detonate them remotely and they can return to doing… other things.

It took a few minutes for Logan to set everything up. Of course, Remus was content to sit back and watch; the weight of his gaze was more than a little distracting. As soon as the last firework was set up, Logan returned to Remus’ side. They sat shoulder to shoulder, their bodies fitting together like pieces of a puzzle. Logan threw his legs over Remus’ lap, and Remus’ hands started to wander.

“You’re a lazy bastard, you know that?” Logan said, his lips quirking up in a smile without permission.

Remus chuckled. “You love me anyway.”

“I do.”

With another snap of his fingers, Remus set off several of the fireworks. Three of them shot up in the air at once, two more following not long after. The first three exploded in a shower of colours so bright they drowned out Remus’ artificial stars. Green and red and yellow and blue and white, one after the other. Some of the shells exploded more than once, creating a cascade of noise and light thundering across the sky.

Remus watched the sky with rapt attention, something sparkling in his eyes with every blast. “These are homemade?”

“Yes.” Logan had spent the days leading up to Valentine's poring over videos and tutorials for patterns and arrangements of his materials to create something just as flashy as his love. Apparently, it worked. “Set off the row of fireworks I placed third from the back. All of them. At the same time.”

With a snap, Remus did. And both of them watched as the fireworks went off. Logan had taken great care to measure out the length of their ignition. By the time the flames shoot them up, the other fireworks would already be up in the sky. The timing was meticulous, and the fireworks set off one after another forming the shape of a laughing skull in the sky.

Logan grinned, proud of his work. There was something hungry in Remus’ eyes when he turned to look at Logan. He snapped his fingers again, and distantly, Logan heard the sizzle of more fireworks. Remus didn’t bother sitting still to watch them though. This time, it was Remus who climbed onto Logan’s lap. The angle Remus sat in allowed Logan to still see the flurry of fireworks that went up.

“You’re missing the show, Love,” said Logan. His voice was remarkably even considering how Remus sucked a hickey against the side of his neck. Whatever Logan was about to say next vanished in a moan as Remus worked Logan’s shirt open, popping some of the buttons in the process.

“I’m not missing my show, Logi,” said Remus devilishly. Briefly, Logan wondered how that would be possible as even more fireworks were set off. The thought vanished soon afterward, Logan too focused on the feel of Remus’ hands and mouth all over him. He couldn’t bite back the sound that bubbled up in his throat, audible even over the crack of fireworks above them.

_ Oh _ , Logan realised belatedly when Remus worked his way up to capture Logan’s mouth with teeth and tongue. The show was the way Logan arched his back and cried out Remus’ name.

It was never about the fireworks.


	14. Day 14: Free Choice!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deceit is quite proficient in the language of flowers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to make Free Choice! Roceit. Come on. All flower meanings are derived from multiple sources and are listed in the end notes, tell me if I missed any  
> Prompts given by [TS Ship Month 2020](https://tsshipmonth2020.tumblr.com/)  
> Read it on Tumblr [HERE](https://hufflepuff-deceit.tumblr.com/post/190912361554/fluffuary-2020-free-choice)  
>   
> If you want to know what I'm writing next click over [HERE](https://crownonymous.tumblr.com/sched)  
> If you want to stay updated on the progress I've made on my fics click [HERE](https://crownonymous.tumblr.com/tagged/crownonynews)  
> And if you want to come say hi or just get bombarded with random posts, you can find me over [HERE](https://landofsaltandshade.tumblr.com/)  
> If you’re interested in more Sanders Sides post, my TS Sideblog is over [HERE](https://hufflepuff-deceit.tumblr.com/fanfic)  
>   
> CW: One-sided love

The Garden was the only place that belonged solely, and completely, to Deceit. A home away from home. A slice of Paradise tucked away from the rest of the Mindscape. A grand and magnificent greenhouse of unparalleled beauty where Deceit could escape and let the heavy burdens weighing down his shoulders to be cleansed.

He carved the Garden out with his own bare hands, planted every tree and seeded every flower that ever blossomed underneath the immaculate glass roof. Every pot was arranged to soak up the optimal amount of sunlight, every stem of every plant grown just so. They greeted Deceit. Every petal and every leaf and every root. He was free here; Deceit was home.

And as the tumult of his emotions turned into a merciless storm, raging against the fragile shores of his heart, Deceit had fled into his Garden. Gentle flowers tempered callous waves the howling winds were calmed by the gentle sway of branches creating a wordless song for Deceit and Deceit alone.

His sunflowers said hello; their yellow faces leaned against Deceit’s hands as though it wasn’t scaled at all, like they felt comforted by his presence in a way that the Sides weren’t. The pink blush of flowers blooming atop his cacti seemed to flourish when Deceit passed. He couldn’t help but stop beside their pots and smile. “Hey,” he greeted softly, knowing that he wouldn’t receive an answer. The peace that seeing his plants brought to his troubled mind was more than enough. Deceit didn’t need a reply. “I see you’ve grown a lot bigger since I was last here. All of you have. What nuisance you all have become.”

The good thing about plants is that Deceit never had to explain what he truly means. The plants know. There’s an understanding between them deeper than mere superficial, farcical words. When Deceit spoke, they listened, and they understood. When his plants needed something, Deceit could decipher their wordless language, the way they leaned and the way their complexions grew darker or lighter. I want water. I want sunlight. I want attention.

That, most of all, Deceit understood.

What living being didn’t crave attention every now and again? Craved the regard of another? To be loved and heard and  _ noticed _ .

Deceit understood that. Deceit understood every inch and every millimeter of this Garden which had long since become his sanctuary.

When the crawling grape vines draped lazily across the woven trellises of the central archway suddenly curled in retreat, Deceit understood: there was an intruder here.

Everything in the Garden moved as one, angrily responding to the ire their Master had at having his home trespassed upon. The roses snarled, thorns sprawling past the careful trim of their bush. Poison ivy burst forth from their once peaceful containment and circled Deceit in a protective barrier, away from any harm. The twin manchineel trees flanking the entrance rattled their branches and bled sap onto the ground, ready to assail the intruder with their toxins.

Deceit paused the gentle caress of his violets to snarl at whoever had found this place. The one place in the Mindscape where Deceit actually felt wanted. Welcome.

The poisonous words sitting at the tip of his tongue died when he saw Roman’s widened eyes. His awed expression. The perfect o his pink lips formed as he marveled at the sight before him. Although this Garden was meant to be his secret, perhaps -just for Roman- Deceit could make an exception.

The moment their Master eased, the plants once again returned to their tranquil state. They retreated from whence they came and allowed Roman passage. The manchineel trees even bowed away from Roman, ensuring that not a leaf or spore touched him. In fact, perhaps the plants became a little  _ too _ welcoming. A few of the cheekier balsams inclined their heads along the path towards the centre of the Garden. Their petals flushed with more colour than usual as they urged Roman onwards, closer. If pressed, Deceit will say that the flowers have a will of their own and in no way reflect Deceit’s want to have Roman approach him. To smell the subtle hint of cologne clinging to his clothes. To count the flecks of amber in Roman’s eyes.

Thankfully, Roman did as the flowers suggested, walking until he was mere inches from Deceit. If Deceit wanted to look Roman in the eye, he’d have to tilt his head up ever so slightly. They were closer now, but Roman was still closed off. His arms pressed tightly against his torso and his shoulders were tense and guarded. But there was a fascination in his eyes, greedily devouring every detail of the greenhouse with glee. Roman wouldn’t notice if Deceit’s eyes lingered on him instead.

Deceit’s camellias returned Roman’s fascination too, it seemed: their red petals reached out to brush against the skin of Roman’s hand. Of course, they shyly pulled back when Roman turned his gorgeous face towards them.

There was a smile on Roman’s lips, almost enough to make Deceit lose his words. If he stayed though, at the place where Deceit was most honest, Deceit might say something he doesn’t want to admit. So he cleared his throat and tried not to look at the forget-me-nots that had wrapped their vines around Roman’s ankle, begging him to stay. “You are not welcome here, my dearest Prince. Leave.”

Of course, Roman noticed the plants crawling up his leg. And the ones that had inched down from their hanging pots to paw at his head. Rather than look put-off by it, Roman beamed. “Are these plants magical?” he asked, reaching a hand up to untangle a particularly persistent cluster of trumpet flowers from his hair. “Your flowers seem to like me a lot.”

Deceit swallowed his words and lied, “They have no reason to like you.”

Roman mock gasped, and Deceit’s heart stuttered at the playful smile he caught at Roman’s face. “There’s plenty to like! You just can’t appreciate it.”

_ I appreciate a lot _ , Deceit thought. “Leave,” he repeated instead. “This greenhouse is meant to be my secret, and you are intruding. Leave.”

“Okay, okay! So pushy,” Roman scoffed and moved past Deceit, further into the garden. The fuchsias hanging over Roman’s head turned at Deceit with betrayal written across their petals. “Can I at least get a better look at more of these flowers before I leave? They’re gorgeous.”

Deceit huffed and turned away. “Do what you want. I don’t care.” If Roman wanted to spend his evening cooing over flowers, then he was free to do so. Deceit didn’t have to be here. But of course, his plants blocked the way. The grapes hanging over the central archway dipped and let their vines braid together in a tight curtain that Deceit can’t get through without hurting his plants. Barring that, the manchineel trees bowed low in front of the door and acacia thorns sprung up in the path.

If plants could smirk, they’d be doing it right now.

“Cocky bastards,” Deceit muttered under his breath. A geranium waved him away and Deceit was forced to turn back to Roman. “Are you done looking at my flowers yet?” he asked. If Deceit were nicer, or if he at least indulged in the nagging desire at the back of his head to actually talk to Roman, perhaps his plants would be more forgiving towards him.

Roman didn’t answer his question. “Can I have a little bit more time?” he said instead. “You did such a great job nurturing these plants. Everything in here looks so lovely!” The dandelions Roman currently inspected preened. Deceit himself had to turn his head aside to hide the violent heat that flushed against his cheeks. Roman didn’t notice, focused only on the dandelions that he caressed with his gentle hands. “So many of your flowers are yellow.”

“So?” Deceit shrugged, almost defensively. “Yellow’s such a  _ hideous _ colour. There’s no sane person who would surround himself with it.”

For the first time, Roman turned away from the flowers. If flowers could make noise, they’d cry. “But your colour motif is yellow though?” Roman frowned in confusion. Then it clicked. And the ensuing smile was brighter than the dandelions he so adored, brighter than the sun even. Deceit’s collar felt a little too tight. “Oh!! Haha, these are one of your lie things. Deceitful little snake.”

“What do you want, Roman?” Deceit forced out through gritted teeth. The longer Roman stayed, the more Deceit’s composure faltered. The more he wanted. And he refused to be reduced to this mess of emotion in front of someone who considered him a villain. Deceit was not a waifish maiden nor a princess to be wooed: he refused to let Roman get to him. Any more than Roman already has, anyway.

“Want? What do you mean? I don’t want anything.” The lie was thick. All of Roman’s bravado, the confidence he wore about him like a shield… it all vanished, leaving behind a fidgeting Prince with cheeks just as red as the pansies leaning closer towards him. “I just wanted to take a stroll around the Mindscape. Nothing special. Found this place by accident.”

“Of course you did. My mistake,” Deceit said. “This place, this Garden, something that I created in the deepest part of the darkest half of the Mindscape meant to be hidden away, is something you’d easily find walking out your bedroom door.” He scowled. “Only someone very determined, or very foolish, wanders this deep in the Mindscape, Roman. Now. What do you want?”

With an exaggerated sigh, Roman slumped his shoulders and pouted. Someone was upset at being caught lying. A flowering branch swatted at Deceit for causing Roman’s smile to vanish. Several petals got scattered over Deceit’s outfit and he silently vowed to cut off that specific branch. “I actually wanted to look for you,” Roman admitted, straying away from the dandelions to once again stand mere inches away. “There’s… a favour I wanted to ask and since you always smelled like flowers whenever you popped in and interrupted Light Side-only discussions, I assumed you liked gardening.” Roman reached down and brushed the stray petals off Deceit. The previous plan to trim the offending apple blossoms vanished immediately. “Didn’t expect you to love plants this much though. I promise I won’t breathe a word about this place to anyone. Just… hear me out.”

“There’s no guarantee that I’ll actually help you. But ask.” As if Deceit could ever refuse anything Roman asked of him.

“You like flowers, right?” Roman began as he once again began to wander around. Deceit, standing in a Garden,  _ surrounded _ by flowers, elected not to dignify such a stupid question with a response. He just silently watched Roman. Of course, the curtain of grapevines parted for Roman when he wanted to go through the central archway, closer to the flowers near the entrance. Fucking bastards.

Everything in his way retreated and allowed Roman to peruse everything he wanted to without even a hint of being hurt. It was worth it though, Deceit supposed, when he once again saw the amazement in Roman’s smile. “So, being such a resourceful and skilled adventurer, it wouldn’t be much of a stretch to assume that you’re also skilled in flower arrangements!”

_ Gardening and flower arrangement have nothing to do with each other. Being an adventurer had nothing to do with making assumptions about other people based on their hobbies _ . All Deceit said in response was a distracted “Maybe.”

Roman didn’t notice Deceit enviously glaring at the sunflowers whose leaves Roman brushed. He continued. “And someone skilled in flower arrangements might also be skilled in flower meanings. Eh?” Deceit shrugged. “Well, that’s the favour I wanted to ask you about.”

“Flower meanings?” Deceit asked with a raised brow.

“Flower meanings,” Roman confirmed. He found his way in front of the red rose bush Deceit kept carefully tended to, near the entrance, where any passers-by might happen upon their crimson petals. If possible, the roses bloomed more beautifully under Roman’s touch. “Roses are my favourites.”

_ I know. _

“I had no idea,” said Deceit.

“Yeah, well, red roses are my favourite. But I wanted something more, you know? An actual arrangement instead of just a bunch of red roses. I want colour. I want variety. I want something entirely unique! Which is why I need your help. For a bouquet. A romantic bouquet.”

“To interpret flower meanings and ensure you don’t accidentally say something completely idiotic.” Roman nodded once again. His eyes were hopeful. “Fine.”

Almost immediately, Deceit was met with a fierce hug in gratitude. He tried not to outwardly react to it, though he obviously failed. He can blame the reddened cheek of his human half to humidity.

“I know what the flowers mean, but as you know, snakes have wonderful eyesight. You will have to take care of the aesthetics yourself; pick out colours you like and if you’re about to say something offensive in the outdated language of flowers, I’ll stop you.”

“Deal! Can I take some of the flowers? Magic flowers beat regular ‘I conjured these right now’ flowers.”

Deceit should tell him the truth:  _ The flowers aren’t magic, they just respond to my emotions _ . But saying that whilst the rose bush twined around Roman’s fingers would only raise questions. So Deceit just gave a half-hearted, “Sure.”

“I want the roses,” said Roman immediately. “I know I said I want variety, but I can’t help it! Roses are still my favourite. Plus I know they mean love and stuff. So?” Deceit motioned for Roman to pluck them. Several of the roses were all too eager to be taken as well, some even severed themselves from the bush for Roman to delicately lift out. “I want some of these purplish ones too. And these daisies. And these big, bold, yellow ones.”

“Daisies, chrysanthemums, and bittersweet. All of those together mean nothing but positive things. And a colourful bouquet I’m sure.”

“Are there any flowers that mean ‘smartness’ or anything?”

Deceit motioned for Roman to follow him. Roman did, happily. Several other plants seemed to vie to be part of Roman’s bouquet. “Clematis,” Deceit gestured. “Mental prowess. Over there’s an iris for wisdom. They’re right beside the carnations: the flowers that look like skirt ruffles.”

Roman bounded over excitedly, plucking several of the aforementioned flowers. He lingered at the carnations. “Can I take some carnations too or do they mean something terrible?”

“As long as it’s not yellow. Or striped. They don’t fit for a  _ romantic _ gift.”

“Oh,” said Roman. “Those look the prettiest, though. I guess I can do with some more blue flowers… Oh! These are tulips right? And over there are orchids! What do they mean?”

Deceit simply sighed and accepted his fate.

He stood by, rattling off meanings and allowed Roman to collect flowers for his silly little bouquet. Most of them meant positive things anyway, since not many people would attach negativity to something they could potentially give their loves. The few times Deceit did have to intervene, it was because the flowers were toxic and required a little bit more careful handling. Roman made a playful quip about Dark Sides being attracted to dangerous things they needed to be careful with, lest they get hurt.

Deceit couldn’t agree more.

By the time Roman was satisfied, he had a hefty bouquet in his hands, one with enough diversity to keep someone occupied just trying to identify the variety of different species. Deceit can’t account for their colours, but anyone who had a passing knowledge could tell that the flowers were picked out deliberately. Not only for their outward beauty, but for the hidden meanings lingering underneath the surface as well. A loving gift.

“Thank you for this. I mean it,” Roman said. He stood by the door, one foot in, one foot out. A particularly long cluster of grass near him tried to pull his foot back in. Deceit didn’t want Roman to leave. “You know, you’re a fun guy, Deceit. You’re more than this slimy heartless persona you try to project.”

“My cover is ruined,” Deceit deadpanned. “Whatever shall I do?”

“Okay, smartass, I was just saying that I had a lot of fun today, but if you’re going to be all Snarky Snakeman, then I’ll be going now.” But despite this, Roman stayed. He was smiling. In one hand, he held his finished bouquet, leaves and petals sitting obediently in their places like they were supposed to. In Roman’s other hand, he held two carnations. One yellow, one striped. “Can I keep this in my room? I know you said they don’t fit in bouquets, but maybe they’ll fit as single flowers?”

“Not those flowers,” Deceit insisted. He beckoned Roman to hand them over. Though he sighed, Roman did. Their hands brushed and for the first time, Deceit desperately wished that he wasn’t wearing his gloves, if only to feel Roman’s fingers brushing up against his own. Deceit tucked the twin carnations on the inside of his capelet pocket.

“Maybe you can keep them, instead?” Roman suggested. “You know! To commemorate this day!”

_ What fitting commemorations _ , Deceit thought.

Roman fidgeted. “Since you insisted that I can’t keep those flowers, is there something else I can keep? You know, as a parting gift. So I can remember today.”

“Wait,” Deceit said. And Roman waited. When Deceit came back with a yellow daffodil, his eyes lit up. “This does not go into the bouquet. It doesn’t mean well.”

“But it means well as a singular flower? I’m not being secretly insulted here, am I?” Roman teased, but he took the daffodil and held it in his spare hand. “Or are you confessing some untold love for me that I just didn’t pick up on?”

“The daffodil is as fitting a commemoration from me to you, as these carnations are from you to me,” Deceit said with a tight smile. “Breathe a word about my Garden to anyone and you’re dead.”

“I get it, I get it!” Roman laughed. “This is your super secret hiding spot in hands-down THE creepiest place in the Mindscape. Got it. Not gonna tell anyone.”

“Good.”

Before Deceit could shut the door and pretend none of this ever happened, Roman spoke again, “Hey Deceit?”

“Yes?”

“Thanks again for, you know. Help with creating a romantic bouquet.” Roman smiled. “Logan will love it! ”

“Happy to assist,” Deceit said.

He shut the door.

For some reason, the flowers in his garden seemed to wilt.


	15. Day 15: Dukexiety

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bullet fic for Remus and Virgil
> 
> CW: 1 mention of recreational drug use

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompts given by [TS Ship Month 2020](https://tsshipmonth2020.tumblr.com/)  
> Read it on Tumblr [HERE](https://hufflepuff-deceit.tumblr.com/post/190938068174/fluffuary-2020-dukexiety)  
> 

  * They met in middle school as the _weird_ kids
  * Downright bizarre
  * Everyone in middle school had issues but these two take not the cake but the bakery
  * Not many friends, or even acquaintances, always at the fringes of social circles
  * For Remus, it was obvious why he’s a little left out
  * His interests aren’t exactly what one would consider normal
  * Rats and insects and a fascination with knives tend to unnerve most kids
  * No one picks on him though
  * Thing about constantly talking about knives and blades and other creepy things like the amount of gallons humans have to lose in order to die, is that most people don’t mess with you
  * Some still do, of course, because Remus is weird and kids can be cruel
  * Not that anyone ever manages to hurt him
  * Aside from having incredibly niche interests about monsters and horror, Remus was also a decent fighter
  * He’s a big, tall kid
  * If he wanted to, he can seriously hurt others far beyond simple bruises and cuts from his knuckles
  * With his size and physical fitness, Remus could injure a kid far beyond minor scapes
  * Not that he ever did
  * Just because he was pushed around all the time, didn’t give Remus an excuse to actually do anything too bad
  * They’re just kids, after all
  * They didn’t know better
  * And besides, Remus was a lot nicer than what his outwardly antagonistic personality suggests
  * Which is what Virgil figured out
  * See, Virgil was also a social pariah, but not for the same reasons as Remus
  * Virgil wasn’t outwardly vocal about his interests
  * Sure, he wears band merch and accessorizes a little oddly but apart from that, he’s quiet
  * Too quiet
  * Virgil’s spectrum of “weird kid” falls in line with the “broody quiet one who sits in the corner”
  * Not a single motherfucker in any of his classes can describe him as anything more than quiet
  * He’s not shy; anyone who makes an off-hand comment about him was met swiftly with sarcasm sharp enough to cut
  * He’s not dumb; whenever he tries in class, which is rarely considering Virgil does minimum effort in everything, Virgil does amazing at homeworks and projects and gets good grades on all his tests and quizzes
  * He’s not frail; despite seemingly hating PE with a passion, enough to try and skip it, Virgil actually excels in physical activity
  * So not much is known about Virgil
  * Shows up to class, gets a decent enough grade, leaves school, rinse and repeat
  * No clubs, no friends, no nothing
  * Virgil is literally there just because he has to be
  * Kids can be cruel, and while some of them tried to pick on Virgil, Virgil is always faster and always avoids them
  * It was found, however, that Virgil has a mean fucking backhand and he’s not afraid to use it
  * It was Remus who initiated their initial conversation
  * Lunch-time is noisy and busy and Virgil always sneaks into the empty gym during lunch time
  * That day, Remus sneaks away too, because while he doesn’t care if other people try to beat him up, it gets tiring sometimes and he wants a break too
  * The lunch lady is nice and let Remus take two trays away from the cafeteria because Remus is almost always hungry
  * So Remus sneaks into the gym, fully prepared to eat two whole trays of food, when he spots Virgil in the far corner of the bleachers
  * Virgil is in his own little world, headphones on, notebook out, intently writing something in it
  * Remus was about to leave him alone when he spots Virgil’s shirt, a mothman graphic tee
  * Naturally, Remus goes to chatter excitedly to him as a fellow fan of cryptids
  * What he didn’t expect, was for Virgil to chatter back, just as excitedly, if not more so
  * He ends up letting Virgil eat his extra lunch and the two of them talk
  * Turns out, they share many interests
  * Cryptids, monsters, horror, emo music, poetry, a bit of an Extra™ taste in clothing
  * That day, the school’s two most ostracised students came together to form a budding friendship that carries them both into highschool
  * Things are still largely the same
  * Kids can still be cruel and the two of them were still the _weird_ ones
  * But shit got INTERESTING in highschool
  * Virgil shot up like a goddamn weed and is a good head and a half taller than Remus
  * Remus grew a lot of muscle too. And a mustache
  * Virgil obviously likes the muscle more than the mustache but hey, Remus likes it, so who cares?
  * In highschool, Remus joins theatre
  * Virgil still stays away from clubs, but with Remus’ encouragement, keeps at his poetry
  * Only Remus is allowed to look, but they both like it that way
  * Highschool poetry is a major improvement over middle school poetry
  * It becomes less angst for angst sake and more emotional as Virgil uses it as _his_ outlet to explore his feelings and thoughts
  * Still pretty dark, but in the way that Shakespeare was doubt
  * Virgil learns to heap metaphors upon metaphors in every word
  * Remus doesn’t get some of the more symbolic things in poetry but he’s always so enthusiastic and supportive of Virgil that it didn’t really matter
  * They meet Dee in highschool
  * He’s also a _weird_ kid but has enough social skills to completely circumnavigate being ostracised
  * Like, scarily good social skills
  * Dee had heavy interests in philosophy, history, and psychology which weren’t popular subjects, but somehow, he always manages to use his silver tongue to get out of trouble
  * Teachers called him a model student while he gets high in the unused bathroom on the second floor
  * Students called him a sweetheart while he gets just close enough to steal their wallet from their back pockets
  * So naturally, Remus and Dee got along like a goddamn house on fire
  * And while Virgil is absolutely _ecstatic_ at the fact that someone finally appreciates Remus…
  * He’s jealous too
  * Because for a long time, it was only Virgil and Remus
  * Now there’s a third person in the mix more charming and more extroverted than Remus is
  * Not that Dee isn’t fun, but being with Remus feels different you know?
  * Virgil made the mistake of letting Dee hear about his feelings
  * Now whenever the three of them hang out, Dee teases him just enough about his crush to get Virgil flustered, but not enough that Remus figures anything out
  * All in good faith, but there’s something about seeing Dee’s smug face that makes Virgil want to crawl in a hole in embarrassment
  * And of course, they meet Roman
  * AKA Remus’ half-brother that Remus never talked about before
  * They went to different middle schools because Remus got expelled from his first school due to punching the kid of a member of the local PTA
  * But now, they go to the same highschool
  * And Remus is not happy about Virgil meeting Roman
  * At all
  * Sure, he put up smiles for his brother, but there’s this tension
  * Like if Remus was given the choice, he’d sooner get expelled from this school too rather than be in the same building as Roman for hours
  * Of course, the only thing that keeps Remus in the school is Virgil
  * If he gets expelled, then Virgil has to stay in this school
  * With Roman
  * For some reason, that bothers him
  * And, like Virgil, Remus makes the mistake of letting Dee know that
  * Now when the three of them hang out, Dee is teasing both of them with subtle hints
  * Neither of them get it
  * Why Virgil feels a little put-off when Remus and Dee hang out alone
  * Why Remus does everything in his power to keep Roman and Virgil from getting closer
  * It’s amusing, for a while
  * But come senior year, Deceit is *this* close to ripping his hair out
  * Both of his best friends are fucking idiots
  * The three of them are inseparable
  * And while Remus is still wary around Roman, they have largely mended their relationship
  * Now Roman is also in on the whole Virgil/Remus mutual pining both too dumb to realise it bit
  * Drives him crazy
  * So during a four day weekend, Roman pools enough money to get Remus and Virgil a two-way ticket to Virginia so the two of them could see the mothman statue and hopefully get their shit figured out
  * Dee decided to be less subtle and literally texted Remus while the two of them were out on their trip
  * “Virgil likes you. Make a goddamn move on him or someone else will”
  * It was a pretty good motivator
  * Virgil expressed his reluctance with entering a relationship because he doesn’t want to lose Remus
  * He’s always been the weird one and it bothers him a lot more than being weird bothers Remus
  * Since Remus finally joined drama club, Virgil doesn’t want to ruin Remus’ social standing if they decide to date
  * And there’s the issue of Virgil’s anxiety and how it might prove a bit troubling for Remus to reassure him constantly
  * But if Remus is willing to try, Virgil is willing to give it a shot
  * Because honestly, he’s had a crush on Remus ever since Remus first approached him with stars in his eyes and mouth going a mile a minute about cryptids in that empty gym
  * Remus admits his jealousy towards Roman because all his life, Roman’s been the good brother
  * The better brother
  * There was never a moment in Remus’ life where he wasn’t compared to Roman
  * While he doesn’t dislike his brother for it, Remus is terrified of letting Virgil and Roman get any closer because Virgil might like Roman more than Remus
  * At the same time, Remus was afraid of telling Virgil how he feels because Virgil is kind and he doesn’t want Virgil to think that he has to be with Remus just because Remus likes him
  * Virgil can do better
  * Neither Dee nor Roman were updated on the short trip but judging by the lighter air between Remus and Virgil and the stray kisses here and there, things seemed to go well
  * When they graduated highschool, Remus decided to go to college, something he hadn’t considered before to pursue forensic anthropology
  * Virgil decided to advance the poetry thing to the next step and gunned for a literature degree so he can teach the symbolism and hidden meaning behind words to kids like him who had no other outlet
  * Both of them swear up and down that it was pure coincidence, but they picked the exact same college to go to
  * The two of them are still the weird ones
  * It doesn’t bother them as much anymore
  * They have each other now




	16. Day 16: Dukeceit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From the classic tumblr idea: You just punched me in the face while gesturing wildly to a friend. Your friend can’t stop laughing and I’m too shocked to respond to your apologies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompts given by [TS Ship Month 2020](https://tsshipmonth2020.tumblr.com/)  
> Read it on Tumblr [HERE](https://hufflepuff-deceit.tumblr.com/post/190938068174/fluffuary-2020-dukexiety)  
> 

Was Damian’s day-to-day life a little boring? Perhaps. Every morning, he got out of bed at the same time, picked a suit and tie that looked like every other suit and tie, drove the same car down the same road to the same coffee shop. It was quite monotone. Even on the days when Damian didn’t have to go to work, he still had the same morning routine. What can he say? A ten minute drive for a good macchiato was worth it.

Besides, being a lawyer was variety enough. Damian just absolutely adored having to sift through fifty layers of bullshit to prosecute wonderful model citizens like the asshole from yesterday who nearly killed himself and his two kids in his car by driving when he was so high he might as well have asked whichever God he believed in for forgiveness while he was up there.

No, Damian has had far enough spontaneity in his life. Too many surprises. All he wanted was a good coffee and a couple of hours of relaxation. Today was a Saturday, his day off. And while Damian was technically still on-call, especially with this case he’d been working, no one was stupid enough to call him on his days off. He tended to get a little cranky, and a cranky Damian had a sharper tongue. Better for everyone that he take a break.

Today was for Damian to spend some well-deserved ‘me’ time. That’s what he expected when he parked the car in front of Logan’s coffee shop. That’s what he expected when he walked through the door and greeted the owner with a polite wave. That’s what he expected when he took a step closer to the counter.

A hand came soaring through the air and smacked Damian square on the face, with enough force that he stumbled backwards and crashed into an unceremonious heap of pained groans on the floor, taking down a chair and a floor lamp with him.

Damian could only stare up in shock as laughter erupted all around him. There were two men, twins. One was clean-shaven and dressed rather fashionably. Damian would have considered him handsome had he not collapsed into an empty chair, laughing so hard that he wheezed. He didn’t seem to be able to breathe.

“You punched him in the face!” the one without the mustache said, almost choking on his words. “You actually punched- you punch- Remus you fucking- you-” Whatever astute observation he was about to say was lost in yet another bout of laughter.

The man who hit him, Remus, knelt in front of Damian. Aside from his mustache and the streak of white in his hair, he looked the same as his brother. Far more apologetic, too. “Sorry!” he said. “I definitely didn’t mean to smack you. Roman, the idiot laughing over there, just said something stupid so I was talking to him and gesturing but I didn’t think I’d hit you! Like, I would, if you were into that, but I’d get to know you first and I wouldn’t hit you this hard. I am so so sorry!”

Between the raucous laughter and the frantic apologies, the other patrons of the coffee shop all turned their eyes on Damian. He wasn’t even sure he heard Remus’ apology properly.

Roman was laughing so hard he choked.

“What’s going on, here?” Damian and Remus turned their heads to look at the owner. Logan stared at them both, unpleased. Then his eyes went to Roman, no longer laughing as he, instead, slammed his fist over and over on the table in his attempt to breathe. “Apologies for this mess,” Logan said to his other patrons as he hauled Roman up to his feet. “I’m getting this one some water from the back room. Damian, your nose is bleeding. Please sort this mess before I throw all three of you out.”

Damian watched Logan disappear into the back room. “My nose is bleeding?” He didn’t feel all that hurt. When he brought a hand up to his nose to check though, it came away red. “Shit.”

“Sorry!” Remus said again and helped Damian to his feet. For someone with an arm strong enough to knock Damian away like he was made of paper, Remus could be surprisingly gentle. “Hang on, I’ll get you a tissue, just sit tight, okay?” Damian didn’t even get a chance to say that he didn’t really care about it; Remus went off to get tissues already. Today was far more interesting than he anticipated.

“Here, hold still.” It felt odd to sit still and let a complete strange dab away at Damian’s nose. But maybe this way, Remus will shut up. Damian was getting tired of the constant apologies over something that -while irritating- was nothing more than dirt underneath his fingernails. Remus stopped. “Holy shit,” he said.

Damian raised a brow. “Did you hit me even harder than I thought? Are there bits of bone sticking out of my face from the force of your punch?” For some reason, that made Remus laugh. And, yes, Damian could admit that it was a nice sound, but it was a rather odd thing to laugh at. “If you have something to say, then say it.”

“You’re really pretty.”

What? “Either my ears need to get checked, or your eyesight does.” There was a mess on the floor. The overturned chair, the shattered floor lamp, the table that Damian didn’t realise got moved when he fell… The red soon-to-be stain on Damian’s and Remus’ shirts. “You are aware that my face is dripping blood, right?”

“I know. That’s what makes it so pretty.” Damian was stunned into silence, allowing Remus to completely finish dabbing away at the blood. Aside from the minor red droplets on their shirts, it’s like nothing ever happened. Remus chucked the napkins at the nearest trash can with surprising accuracy. Then he wiped his hands on the back of his pants and extended one for Damian to shake. “I’m Remus. If there’s anything I can do to make up for uh, socking you in the face, then tell me.”

“Damian.” From the corner of his eye, he spotted Logan exiting the backroom, chiding the asshole who almost asphyxiated himself to death laughing at Damian’s misfortune. An idea formed in his head. “And if you really want me to forgive you, pay for my morning coffee.”

“Deal.”

For a break in his routine, this meeting wasn’t so bad.


	17. Day 17: Intruality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus has a lot of notches on his bedpost, names and faces he can't remember. But Patton's different.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompts given by [TS Ship Month 2020](https://tsshipmonth2020.tumblr.com/)  
> Read it on Tumblr [HERE](https://hufflepuff-deceit.tumblr.com/post/190942667074/fluffuary-2020-intruality)  
> 

There’s notch after notch after notch on Remus’ bedpost. Names and faces that all jumbled together to form an amalgamation of all the people he’s had tangled up in his bedsheets. There were a couple of pictures too. Photographs hung on the walls of his bedroom, or framed and set on his dresser. Some photos were just of them, alone in the frame with a big smile; others had Remus standing beside them. The really memorable ones had clothing. Scarves and shirts and jackets and and and.

It wasn’t so much a bedroom as it was a photobook. An extension of the tally marks on Remus’ bedpost. Ghosts. Memories of the people that came in and out of his life. One doesn’t need a degree to understand all the people Remus had met, had slept with, had loved. People that weren’t in his life anymore. A single look was like delving into the deepest corners of Remus’ mind, unearthing everything Remus kept unsaid..

That’s what Remus thought of when he said, “No.”

_ It’s for the best _ , he thought. Despite his attempts to relax, however, his fingers drummed an irregular beat against his leg. Tap tap. Tap. Tap tap tap. Tap. It isn’t that Remus was ashamed of his sex life, or that he had any regrets about his past, but this one was different. This one isn’t like his past flings. And from experience, a trip to a bedroom filled with trophies from past conquests wasn’t exactly a good idea for a romantic evening.

Unfortunately, Patton didn’t seem to think so.

There’s a small pout on his lips as he looked at Remus with confusion. Both of them were on the couch in Remus’ living room, but Patton was clearly more relaxed. He leaned back against the arm rest and stretched his legs out where Remus idly kneaded at the muscle of his calves. “Why not?” Patton asked. “We’ve been dating for a few months. Half a year, actually, but I haven’t seen your bedroom even once.”

Remus tried to smile, but even he knew that it fell flat. “Is that weird?”

“I don’t know,” Patton shrugged. “Maybe. I just know that in the ten months we’ve been together, I’ve never even caught a glimpse of your bedroom. You usually just come over to my apartment. Or we stay here on the couch. But never-” Patton took a breath and shook his head. He pulled his legs back to hug them close to his chest. “No, nevermind. Forget I asked. I guess I’m just a little jumpy since this is, you know.” This is the first time Patton’s ever had a serious, long-term relationship. Which makes everything even more complicated.

Remus isn’t exactly a touchy-feelsy kind of motherfucker. Oh, he can do sex. He can do fun date nights. But emotional vulnerability? Willingly laying himself bare for others? Remus had nothing to hide, but something about opening himself up for more than just a casual fuck felt strangely intimate. Too intimate, actually.

But this one was different. Patton was different. When he looked at Remus, there wasn’t just lust or passion or desire. There was something else too. Fondness. Acceptance. Love. Everything Remus had been chasing all his life. So he’s going to do things right this time. Hopefully, he won’t screw up again.

Remus sighed and scooted closer to Patton. The smile he so adored was gone, and Remus wanted it back. “You know what my closets are like, don’t you?”

“Terribly disorganised.” Patton nodded. Remus somehow managed to once again coax Patton to lay his legs over on Remus’ lap. When Remus’ fingers danced on Patton’s skin, it brought back the smile that Remus had long since gotten addicted to. “I think it’s just because you hoard a lot of things, Dear.”

“It’s not hoarding, it’s holding onto the memories!” Remus protested. It made Patton smile just that little bit brighter, but- “And it’s why I don’t want you in my bedroom.”

Patton scooted up even more, until he had to throw both his legs on either side of Remus so he could get close enough to wrap his arms around Remus’ shoulder. “I know you’re a bit -a lot- messy. And I already told you before, I’m okay with it. It’s a part of you, and I love all of you,” said Patton gently. The light in the living room was dim, but if he focused, Remus could count out just about every freckle on Patton’s face.

Remus couldn’t resist and kissed him. Softly, though. With none of the roughness or the urgency their kisses usually have. It was chaste, and tender. Nothing more than their lips brushing against one another, sliding together like perfect pieces of a puzzle. When they parted, Patton moved even closer, until their chests were flush against each other. Patton had his legs locked around Remus’ waist. “Remus? You look troubled.”

What was it his friend said? It’s like a bandaid. Just gotta rip it off.

He took a breath. “I’ve been with a lot of people. Fuck buddies, on-and-off flings, casual dates, everything. It doesn’t usually work out into anything serious for obvious reasons.” Remus was too  _ much _ . An uncontrolled brushfire threatening to engulf everything and everyone around him. A storm at sea that could capsize even the largest and sturdiest of vessels. People didn’t like that side of him much. And they left, leaving nothing but memories and a broken heart behind. Patton wouldn’t do that. At least, Remus hoped he wouldn’t.

Patton kept quiet and let Remus continue. “My bedroom is filled with all the juicy reminders of everyone I’ve ever had the  _ pleasure _ of fucking. Photos. Clothing. Notches on the bedpost. Took everything down once or twice when I met someone exciting. Such a hassle putting everything back up when the relationship went down in hellfire and brimstone though!” It wasn’t all that funny, but Remus laughed anyway. He had to. Patton was being way too quiet and he couldn’t stand the silence.

“Didn’t want you to see my souvenirs.” Even though Patton stayed silent, it was a good sign that Patton nuzzled against Remus’ neck, right? “You deserve the best, Patty Cake. I wanna be good for you. Really! I swear! Rip my heart out and hope to die, but- I’m terrified of loving you.”

“Because I might leave like the others did?” Patton said. Remus’ silence was his answer. “Oh, Remus, honey. I’m not going anywhere. No matter what I see.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“Okay!” The two of them untangled themselves from the couch. Remus lead the way up the stairs into his bedroom, each step heavier than the last, but spurred on by Patton’s promise. Patton never broke promises; he never lied either. Just before he opened the door, he turned around and said, “Fair warning, if you do decide to change your mind, I will absolutely sulk for weeks and eat all the ice cream in the fridge and watch horror movies to destress.”

Patton kissed him on the cheek as Remus opened the door. “I know. And I said I wasn’t going to leave, right?”

Remus opened the door. They both walked inside, tentatively. Nothing was out of the ordinary. There were photos on the walls and on Remus’ desk. The half-open door of his closet showed several articles of clothing all in different styles. And the bed was kept almost obsessively clean. But upon closer inspection, the photographs were all of different people, the clothes didn’t really match up with Remus’ style, and there were small tally marks etched into the wooden bedposts. Patton always knew that Remus had a long history, but he didn’t think that it’d be enough to cover almost an entire side of the frame.

“Wow. There are a lot of things here,” said Patton as he plopped down onto the bed. It was really soft. “All of these were your past lovers?”

“The people in the photographs were.” There were far more notches on the bed than photographs. “Not everyone wanted anything more than a no-strings attached deal. But I never did anyone while I was with you, I swear.”

Patton laughed softly. “Calm down, Ree. I know. I believe you. I was just…” He ran a hand down the bedpost, felt out every scratch against the wood, one for every person Remus had taken to bed. “I was just thinking. This must mean a lot to you.”

“It did. It does.” Remus kind of paced across the floor, trying to find a way to release the ugly tension building up inside him. “But I can take these down if you want. All of it! I just like reminding myself of my exes because it was fun while it lasted and I have some good memories that I want to hold on to, but I can take these down no problemo! Replace the bed frame even! If you’d rather make me erase all this stuff I will. I’m scared shitless of doing this and being left alone again, but I can do it. You know. If you’re staying.”

Patton’s hand went from the notches to scratch marks around the post. Something unintentional, that got scraped back and forth. “I already said I’m not going to leave, Dear. And besides, sex on a bed is more comfortable than on a couch.” Remus’ eyes lit up. Patton grinned at him. “Let’s make some more memories in this room. A lot more.”

Without even a second’s breath, Remus tackled him in a fierce hug, trailing kisses all over his face and down his neck. “You’re the best! You’re the best! You’re the best! I’ll get everything down quickly. Want me to throw the trophy clothes out too? I can throw those out. I wanna keep the leather jacket I got two years ago, but I don’t need the other stuff.”

All the tension and worry from earlier had vanished. Remus was still thrumming with energy, but it was excitement this time. Patton actually had to grab onto his arm and pull to keep Remus from speeding all around his room in his quest to take down all of his memorabilia. “That can wait until morning, Remus. For now, why don’t you get me whatever made these marks on your bedpost?”

He looked confused, but Remus didn’t argue. He just plopped down at the edge of the bed and rooted around for something underneath it. He rolled back up with rope, carefully knotted for easy access. “Those are rope marks, Pat. Dunno why you’d want to see a bunch of rope.”

“You know,” Patton began, untangling the knot with ease, “I kinda wish you’d told me these things about yourself. Relationships are a two-way street, you know? It’s unfair if I’m the only one having fun. I wouldn’t have said no, by the way.” Realisation dawned slowly on Remus’ face. Patton made himself comfortable, reclining against the pillows. “I knew what I was getting into when we started dating, Ree.”

“You’re a lot less innocent than people think.”

Patton didn’t break eye contact with Remus as he perfectly loops the rope around one wrist. He handed Remus the rest of the rope. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Let’s make some memories, then.”


	18. Day 18: DLAMPR

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s a goddamn 6k word soulmate au bullet fic because I have no self-control

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompts given by [TS Ship Month 2020](https://tsshipmonth2020.tumblr.com/)  
> Read it on Tumblr [HERE](https://hufflepuff-deceit.tumblr.com/post/190966963654/fluffuary-2020-dlampr)  
> 

  * Everyone knows that something special happens on their sixteenth birthday
  * Everyone
  * When the clock strikes the exact second a human being reaches their sixteenth birthday, their soul mark appears
  * Sometimes it’s their soulmates’ first words
  * Sometimes it’s a picture of something that represents their soulmate
  * Sometimes it’s their heartbeat
  * Sometimes it’s a name
  * Sometimes it’s colour blooming on skin upon contact
  * Whatever it is, society has placed a great emphasis on these soulmate marks
  * The one person who is perfect for you exists somewhere in the world
  * Some are even lucky and get two or three or four
  * But everyone, everyone tries to at least figure out who their soulmate is
  * It’s fate, right? Fate can’t be wrong
  * .
  * At least, that’s the mentality Patton Deerling had
  * It was a perfect idea
  * Someone was put into this world just for him. Someone that would make Patton want to be a better person. Someone to support him and love him and be with him
  * Late at night, child Patton would often stare up at his ceiling and daydream about his soulmate
  * What he would be like
  * If he and Patton would get along
  * And whenever Patton got back from school, he’d sit in front of the tv and watch these soulmate tv shows and giggle to himself as he imagines him and his soulmate getting into these shenanigans too
  * They were meant for each other, right?
  * Every day, Patton would wish he could turn 16 faster
  * On the eve of his sixteenth birthday, Patton didn’t sleep
  * He just stayed awake, full of excitement at potentially figuring out the identity of the one person meant for him
  * His soulmark was a name, first and last. Can’t go wrong with that
  * It read “Charlie Jones” and after some searching, Patton finally found his soulmate when he was 19
  * Fresh out of highschool, in a new state and new city, going on a blind date with someone he’s never met because apparently, their soul mark is a name too. Patton’s name. It was easy for them to meet
  * Objectively, Charlie is perfect
  * They were the same age. Both of them got good grades, both of them went to church, both of them wanted to go into the teaching industry. So they should have been perfect together
  * But Charlie’s a girl
  * And it felt… wrong to be with a girl
  * Fate made a mistake
  * This was the moment when Patton grew up
  * Sure, he was already 19 and sure he was already in college, but that date with Charlie made Patton realise that he had been living in an idyllic world
  * One where he expected things to go smoothly, with no hiccups or challenges
  * All those night child Patton spent awake, dreaming of this moment suddenly soured
  * Negative feelings welled up inside him and it felt wrong to have them, but it felt worse to pretend that he wanted to spend his life with this woman
  * He and Charlie kept contact, but they didn’t date, and they weren’t particularly close
  * They were just casual acquaintances who happened to be soulmates
  * Charlie was the one more upset about it but respected Patton’s wishes and didn’t try to pursue him
  * But Patton began to doubt himself
  * Maybe fate didn’t make a mistake
  * Maybe this was Patton’s fault
  * Maybe he just wasn’t giving Charlie a chance and maybe he was being a terrible soulmate to her and maybe this is his fault
  * Needless to say, that kind of hit Patton mentally and emotionally
  * He still keeps his grades up, still wants to teach, still goes to church
  * But there’s something else now. A regret that won’t go away
  * Of course, Patton isn’t the only one who didn’t quite like his fate-given soulmate
  * .
  * Enter Virgil Gray and Damian Guile
  * Virgil and Damian have known each other since they were children
  * They lived in the same neighbourhood
  * Played together, grew up together
  * Practically inseparable
  * Their childhoods were rough, but manageable
  * Virgil grew up in a religious household that stifled all his attempts to individualise himself
  * Damian was raised by a single mother who worked double sometimes triple shifts to care for him and keep their house
  * When they turned 16, things changed. Not by their choice
  * See, Virgil’s family believed in soulmarks, almost fanatically so
  * When Virgil manifested his soulmarks, it came as a burst of colour on his skin that quickly grew dormant until his soulmate would touch him again
  * His already stifling restrictions grew even stricter
  * No dating anyone that isn’t his soulmate which, obviously, didn’t quite sit right with Damian
  * Aside from Damian’s belief that soulmates don’t matter, that it’s the people working to understand each other and love each other despite their faults which make relationships work, there’s also the fact that Damian’s soulmark was his soulmates heartbeat
  * It was supposed to be a living tattoo, a constant reminder that Damian wasn’t alone
  * But the line around Damian’s wrist was flat and cold: he never got an opportunity to meet his soulmate
  * Not that it mattered, Damian wasn’t really interested in pursuing someone he knew nothing about
  * Just because society or fate or whatever told him that he lost the one person meant for him forever, didn’t mean that Damian wouldn’t find happiness
  * Damian’s Mom had a soulmark, she met her soulmate, and he was a crock of absolute horseshit to her; cheating with other women, ordering her around, expecting her to take it with a smile just because they were soulmates
  * Damian didn’t want that sometimes, soulmates are shit
  * A soulmate is just a guide; it isn’t absolute
  * After all, Damian was pretty happy when he and Virgil hung out together
  * Which is why Virgil’s family moved out of the neighbourhood
  * Can’t have Virgil get too close to someone that isn’t his soulmate after all
  * And there’s a thing about Virgil’s soul mark, the vibrant colours that blush on his skin and linger when his soulmate touches
  * It’s very good for hiding bruises
  * Both Virgil and Damian spent the rest of their highschools isolated and lost
  * Virgil for obvious reasons
  * Damian because he lost his friend. One who might have become something more than a friend, if their relationship was allowed to grow naturally
  * Still, there’s nothing he could do about suddenly having his best friend ripped away from him
  * With no phone, no email, no way to contact Virgil, Damian just kept on going
  * He didn’t need soulmates to complete his life
  * .
  * A sentiment shared by Logan Berry
  * Child prodigy, incredibly smart and talented, born to an affluent family
  * Even as a kid, Logan wowed others with a multitude of skills
  * Exemplary grades, combined with his love and aptitude for science ensured that Logan would have his pick of colleges when he graduated
  * To top it all off, Logan was one of the lucky few with not one, not two, but three soulmates
  * A name, a picture, and the first words said to him
  * Not that Logan gave a shit
  * Who has time to be pursuing romances when he could be doing other things?
  * Fuck romance, Logan wanted to get a goddamn PhD and he isn’t going to get one by lazing around hoping that the perfect person would show up for him
  * Of course his parents would prefer it if Logan actually _tried_ to create personal ties with others, but Logan would rather just study
  * Books can’t hurt him
  * Knowledge can’t hurt him
  * His soulmates, all three of them, were people
  * And people were the ones who mocked and belittled Logan for his unusual behaviour
  * People were the ones who made fun of him day in day out just because of his intellect
  * People can hurt him, and Logan would prefer it if he just avoided that altogether
  * So he was one of the few who didn’t give a shit about soulmates
  * Didn’t try to hide the marks on his body, but paid them no attention either
  * Things went great
  * Logan finished highschool top of the class, with accolades from numerous extracurricular activities he participated in, as well as a full-ride scholarship to the college of his choosing
  * He’s never met any of his soulmates
  * And it didn’t matter
  * Or, it shouldn’t
  * But as Logan moves out of his parent’s home to pursue a higher education, he realises that it did matter
  * Maybe not the whole soulmate thing, Logan still doesn’t care about that
  * He’s met enough people who show a happy face one minute and turn around and say something terrible
  * People shouldn’t base their relationships over something arbitrary like fate or destiny
  * Connections should be real, genuine
  * But what did Logan know?
  * He didn’t exactly have any friends
  * .
  * The Foster twins on the other hand, had a fuckton of friends
  * Lots of em
  * Roman and Remus were both charismatic, friendly, charming
  * They were flames and everyone around them was a moth
  * People came in and out of their lives pretty often, but the one constant they had since childhood was each other
  * No matter what happens, they supported one another through thick and thin
  * They were a package deal
  * It’s the only way they know how to stay together in the foster child system
  * If Roman was about to be picked up _without_ Remus, then he acted out, kicking and screaming and begging to be reunited with his brother again
  * Remus doesn’t have to worry about being picked up without Roman, not many people were interested in adopting him
  * And even if they were, they usually switch over to Roman once they meet him
  * But it’s okay, Remus doesn’t mind
  * After all, he had a lot of friends and he had Roman, that’s all he ever needed
  * At least, that’s what he thought
  * When they turned 16, only one of them got a soulmark; everything he wrote onto his skin showed up on his soulmate’s, and vice versa
  * Remus was thrilled at finally getting his soulmark
  * Roman got nothing
  * Which wasn’t supposed to happen! Everyone had a soulmark
  * But there was no name, no heartbeat, no flash of colour, no nothing
  * It’s fine though, since Remus still hung out with him every minute of every day, even with his soulmate inking messages into his skin
  * It should have been fine but Roman can’t help but be jealous
  * After all, every single person in the world was special, they had a person out there just for them
  * But Roman got nothing. Was he destined to be alone? Did he have no one special for him?
  * He grew up with stories of soulmates, true love, a happy ending, and now he’s supposed to accept the fact that he doesn’t have one?
  * Unfortunately, because they’ve been together for so long, Remus notices his brother’s feelings and tries to comfort him
  * It, uh, doesn’t go well
  * “It’s unfair! Why do you have a soulmate and I don’t?”
  * Remus kind of loses it
  * Because for the 16 years they’ve lived together, Roman always got the attention, Roman was the favoured brother, Roman this and Roman that
  * The one time, the one time Remus feels special, this shit gets pulled on him
  * “Why can’t you be happy for me for once?”
  * Neither of them meant what they said, but there’s bitterness between them
  * Roman gets adopted. Remus doesn’t
  * For the first time in their lives, they were on their own
  * Friends didn’t quite feel the same as having someone on their unique wavelength, someone who will always have their back no questions asked
  * Roman has a new family, a kind family who is kind with him and didn’t mind adopting a 16-year old
  * They nurture him and let him pursue his dream in acting and allow him to explore and make friends and always back him up 100% of the way
  * But it’s not the same without Remus
  * When Roman’s family came to Roman’s former foster home to try and adopt Remus as well, though, Remus was gone
  * Roman doesn’t know where his brother went
  * After his argument with Roman, Remus talked to his soulmate. A lot
  * There was never a moment when his arms weren’t covered in ink and the two of them agreed to meet, somewhere far away from Remus’ foster home
  * The plan was for his soulmate to take him away from everything, get Remus into a good school, help him grow and when they grew older, they’d marry
  * Remus didn’t believe as ardently in the whole soulmate business, but hey, he might as well try, right?
  * With all his things packed into his schoolbag, Remus skipped school to meet his soulmate
  * She was pretty, and she was rich
  * And she took one look at Remus before she had her driver take the car somewhere far away
  * She didn’t write to Remus again
  * Remus didn’t return to his foster home; he dropped out of school and off the grid
  * .
  * Fast forward a couple of years
  * Patton is 26, Virgil is 25, Damian is 26, Logan is 29, Remus and Roman are 23
  * All of them at this point have ignored their fate-given soulmates to continue living their lives
  * After graduating, Patton moved away from his hometown to live in Florida, someplace a little warmer
  * He is a very dedicated kindergarten teacher
  * The kind that adores all the children he teaches
  * The children adore him back, by the way
  * They learn so much because their teacher takes time to create fun activities for them to grow and explore
  * Teacher of the month award every single month
  * Not a single kid doesn’t like him
  * When the kid is a bit grumpy, Patton manages to get them to engage
  * When the kid is sad, Patton cheers them up
  * Mr. Deerling is dearly beloved in his school
  * And in his community
  * On his days off, or when he has free time, Patton volunteers all over the city
  * Homeless shelters, food drives, soup kitchens, animal shelters, cleaning up, planting trees, the whole works
  * And on Sundays, he goes to church
  * He isn’t as involved as he once was
  * It still feels _off_ sometimes, but it’s become a force of habit at this point
  * .
  * On the other hand, Virgil _returns_ to his hometown
  * Family and soulmate nowhere in sight
  * He’s still largely the same as he once was, quiet, hard to notice
  * Always wears long-sleeves now though, even when it’s hot. Refuses to take them off
  * When he was younger, he was supposed to take over his father’s company
  * For reasons unknown, Virgil no longer has any involvement with his father’s company
  * He’s just back in some small town in Florida, working as a barista to a small-time coffeeshop
  * He is the ONLY person on the night shift which sucks but hey, more money
  * Doesn’t talk to his parents or his soulmate at ALL. Pretends they don’t exist, actually
  * While he clocks in and does a decent job, Virgil doesn’t stay around to socialise
  * Basically a hermit with little personal connection with the people around him
  * Strong online presence though
  * Has a podcast on Youtube that’s basically him talking through a voice filter about his personal experiences in life and his opinions about various topics
  * Initially, it was his way of keeping a diary. His therapist recommended journaling to him to get over childhood trauma
  * But over time, it became a hobby, something fun that he looks forward to when he gets back from work
  * And soon, it isn’t just personal stories and anecdotes and opinions
  * Over time, Virgil began reading off poetry, short stories, things he made up when he was bored
  * Sometimes, he sings covers of songs
  * Never shows his face though. Only his voice
  * But his audience still loves him
  * .
  * Damian is also returning to his hometown
  * Never left Florida, but he had to go to a different city to study and practised law
  * One of the finest prosecutors in the state, maybe even the country
  * Lived where he worked but always visited his Mom whenever he can
  * When she died, though, Damian inherited his grandparents’ house from his Mom
  * Packed his bags and moved in, even if its a lot less nicer than his former lodgings
  * Still works as a prosecutor, just has to drive a little further each day
  * Has had a couple of relationships here and there, but never anything serious
  * These people still believe that they’ll find their soulmate, and Damian is only in it for the companionship
  * It’s fun, true, but never anything substantial
  * Thankfully for him, the flatline around his wrist could easily just pass off as a very simple tattoo, so he doesn’t get asked about it a lot
  * He doesn’t mind bouncing from relationship to relationship
  * Mom would have been a little saddened that her son hasn’t settled down yet but
  * Obviously she’s dead
  * Dead people don’t get to decide what the living do
  * Still, Damian misses her dearly
  * She was the one constant in his life, always there for him
  * And she was taken by a drunk driver
  * Damian’s fucking pissed about that, but not much he can do
  * She’s dead. No amount of mourning will bring her back
  * He does, however, make sure to spend time at her grave, a little ways away from his hometown
  * Damian made sure to get her buried someplace nice, with flowers and sunshine and trees
  * .
  * Logan has interest and talent for several fields, but chose to become a doctor
  * Specifically, a surgeon
  * Most of the time, Logan works on hearts, but he can perform other surgeries if need be
  * And he excels in his job, one of the best in the field
  * Lives and works in Virginia, has a house close to the hospital where he works
  * Speaks to his parents sometimes, visits them, too, but otherwise nothing
  * Maintains a good relationship with his coworkers, but it’s strictly professional
  * No close friends, no partner
  * Essentially the definition of a workaholic
  * He is, however, very happy with his job, so it’s no issue for him
  * And with his income, Logan can travel a lot. Take a few planes to see some sights
  * That also means that Logan can take planes to attend meetings and conferences
  * As someone highly respected in his field, Logan sometimes speaks at seminars and conventions
  * While he may sound monotonous at times, with rigid and robotic speech, Logan encourages questions whenever he speaks
  * The point, after all, is to gain something from his experiences
  * If Logan can inspire or clarify some points with his experiences
  * This time, Logan got invited to attend a medical convention in Florida
  * .
  * Roman, with the encouragement of his adoptive parents, went on to become an actor
  * A highly-acclaimed actor with his name and face plastered everywhere
  * Multiple houses all over, side-gig in modeling and singing
  * Basically, man has it made
  * But no matter how successful he is, how many people he’s been with, all the accolades and interviews and money, it’s never enough
  * Roman never stopped trying to find his brother
  * Even when he grew up, Roman never stopped looking. His parents helped too
  * But no matter how hard they tried, Remus’ name didn’t show up in adoption systems anywhere
  * And it kind of hurt
  * For 16 years, Roman had Remus and to suddenly lose him is devastating
  * Life moves on, though
  * Of course, his parents still swear up and down and sideways that if he ever finds Remus, he would be welcome in their lives as Roman’s brother
  * The downside of being a nominated actor, however, is the publicity
  * Sure, Roman adored the attention. He could go to a lot of places, meet a lot of people
  * But sometimes, Roman has to go to places he doesn’t even want to
  * Like Florida
  * Too hot for him, and he doesn’t want to go, but he’s attending a party that he’s been invited to, and it would be rude to decline
  * So he’ll just show up until he can politely excuse himself, and maybe hit up a couple scenic spots while he’s there, and then resume his search for Remus
  * That argument all those years ago didn’t seem important anymore
  * All Roman wants to do is find Remus and apologise
  * And maybe, if Remus wanted to, they can be brothers again
  * .
  * Not that he’d find Remus. Homeboi went the fuck OFF
  * Since he ran away, he’s flitted around from place to place
  * Still in Florida, but he moved around from city to city
  * Bounces in and out of jail for a lot of things
  * Theft, drug use, fighting
  * Doesn’t stay in for very long, though
  * Remus can be very behaved when he wants to be
  * And he’s not violent. At least, he doesn’t start the violence
  * All Remus is interested in is cash, things he can pawn off, stuff like that
  * Doesn’t hurt people
  * Unless they wanna be hurt
  * Just because people are hung up on the whole “one true love” bullshit doesn’t mean that Remus has to be
  * Sex was just as fun even if they weren’t his soulmate
  * And besides, things were kind of looking up for him
  * Semi-permanent residence at a sleazy motel
  * A service industry job where the manager doesn’t mind if he has a record
  * And a stash of the good shit whenever Remus wants to escape for a while
  * Plus there’s this coffee shop nearby that has KILLER donuts so he’s all set
  * .
  * Here comes the good part:
  * Remus and Virgil met first. On accident, walking down the street
  * It was in the evening, Remus just got back from his job, and Virgil was just doing his
  * So Remus decides to have the idea to go get some donuts and coffee
  * Middle of the night but who cares? The demand of sugar cares not for clocks
  * Usually, Remus gets his donuts and coffee in the morning, so when he walks in through the door, he doesn’t recognise the clerk
  * Real cute though, and there aren’t a lot of customers around, so what’s the harm in flirting?
  * Surprise surprise, they hit it off right away
  * So Remus comes by more often, and when there are no other customers around, the two of them talk
  * And they really, really like talking to each other
  * Remus is still a chaotic bastard, but he likes this one. He’ll try for Virgil
  * So “crazy stupid high” becomes “uses sometimes, but not always”
  * “Always late at work because it doesn’t matter” becomes “do his best”
  * With Remus beside him, Virgil opens up a bit. Talks about his childhood, Damian, the failed soulmate business
  * Remus asks him if Virgil is someone who believes that he’s destined to end up with his soulmate
  * Virgil point blank says that he’d sooner fistfight fate then let that happen
  * And the two of them got closer. Things were going great
  * Of course, Remus can’t visit Virgil every night, and there were nights when Virgil doesn’t see him
  * Then the door to the coffee shop opens
  * Virgil saw brown hair and kind of flashy but still low-key clothing and automatically greets “Hey Remus”
  * Then he takes a closer look
  * No mustache, neater hair, eyes that were definitely not green
  * It was Roman
  * The party he was invited to still hasn’t happened
  * Roman read his calendar wrong and arrived way, way too early
  * But since he’s already in the area, might as well search around for Remus, you know?
  * It got late, Roman was super tired, so he goes into the first coffee shop he sees
  * Aside from a really cute barista, he seems to know who Remus is
  * After all, Roman and Remus were twins. If the barista confused Roman for Remus, then _his_ Remus was the same Remus Roman was looking for!
  * Unfortunately, Virgil doesn’t know where Remus’ address is
  * Even if he did know, the story he got from Remus about Roman wasn’t exactly a flattering one
  * Virgil wants to protect his friend
  * But the more Roman talked, the more Virgil realised that he means well
  * He just wants his brother back
  * And even though Roman was adopted, he still kept his last name. His last connection to Remus
  * It was sweet
  * Virgil still can’t help him since he doesn’t know where Remus lives, but he and Roman hit it off
  * When Remus does come back to the coffee shop, Roman is already there
  * He and Virgil are talking idly and having fun
  * No one else is in the coffee shop
  * When Virgil realises, he goes into the back room to let the two brothers talk
  * It’s messy as all shit
  * They lay out their grievances, sometimes shouting, sometimes pacing around the shop
  * Roman regrets that moment where he allowed his jealousy about Remus having a soulmate to come between them
  * And he says that he never stopped searching but no matter how hard he looked, he never found Remus
  * Because Roman never thought to check for criminal records
  * And Remus lays out his resentment, his feelings of abandonment and inferiority
  * How Roman took everything Remus had ever wanted for granted
  * He admits that he also should not have reacted as angrily as he did
  * They make up. Tears and hugs all around
  * At the end of the day, they were still family. And Roman swore to himself that he’d do whatever he can to make sure that Remus was alright
  * They talk. With complete privacy, because Virgil is still fucking around in the back room
  * Roman asks if Virgil is Remus’ soulmate
  * Remus says no, but Roman kind of sees the chemistry between them
  * And yeah, Virgil is cute and all, but obviously, Remus likes him a lot
  * Roman won’t get in the way of that
  * After hearing his brother try to be considerate of his feelings, trying to make things right with Remus and trying to put him first, Remus kind of breaks?
  * In a good way
  * Virgil exits the back room to find Remus and Roman both sobbing on his counter
  * And he doesn’t get paid the fuck enough for this but hey. These two idiots were his friends, so Virgil makes all three of them some coffee and offers up his place
  * Not as fancy as Roman’s hotel, but it’s cozy and the three of them can talk more about this when Virgil gets off his shift
  * The brothers accept
  * In Virgil’s apartment, they work things out
  * Remus wants to date Virgil, but Roman also wants to date Virgil
  * Virgil doesn’t want to give an answer immediately. Not because he didn’t like Roman or Remus, but because he’s still trying to get over his previous relationship
  * It ended messily and Virgil isn’t particularly keen on physical contact. Plus, he explains the bit about Damian
  * And that was okay
  * Besides, Remus still wants to work on controlling his vices. And a bunch of other things
  * And since Roman finally found his brother, his parents are flying in to personally deliver the adoption forms to Remus
  * Because Roman is their son, and since Remus is his brother, that makes Remus their son too
  * They can figure this out
  * Roman is paying for everything Remus needs to get somewhere better
  * Virgil declines Roman’s offer of money so he can focus on his youtube channel
  * Working night shifts at a coffee shop was a drag sometimes, but Virgil kind of likes it here
  * Besides, if he didn’t work the coffee shop, he would never have seen Damian again
  * .
  * It goes like this:
  * Damian is really, really fucking tired
  * He just finished up a long and grueling case
  * All of his nerves are shot and the only thing he wants is to relax
  * But he hasn’t visited Mom yet all week this week, and he’s not going to set foot at home until he’s visited her
  * Thing is, whenever Damian visits Mom, he brings flowers with him
  * Her favourite were scarlet rosemallows
  * Unfortunately, the flower shop Damian usually goes to is all out, so he has to go someplace else
  * There’s a long goddamn line, but Damian wants these flowers, so he waits
  * After all, it doesn’t matter if he’s late; the dead don’t care
  * The man before him seems to be unusually happy for someone who has to wait a while
  * And, like many other poor bastards who wanted a distraction but couldn’t be bothered to pull out a phone, the stranger talks
  * Surprisingly, he’s a lot more interesting than Damian thought
  * He’s a kindergarten teacher, and introduced himself as Patton
  * Despite teaching children, Patton knows a lot about a lot of things, and the two of them entertained themselves by talking
  * Damian asked if Patton was getting flowers for his soulmate
  * Patton admits that he and his soulmate don’t really talk all that much anymore
  * The flowers were for someone else
  * Although he volunteers in a lot of places and has made friends in plenty of them, he met someone in this rehab centre he recently started helping out in
  * Of course, Patton isn’t a doctor; he doesn’t know what these people need, but he helps out in other ways, particularly with the food
  * One of the people recently admitted has, apparently, fallen in love with his cooking
  * Patton does volunteer work in the rehab centre, but when he has time, he talks to this one guy, Remus
  * Remus was moving to a brand new place, and since he and Patton were kind of friends, Patton thought to buy him flowers to kind of commemorate the occasion
  * Also because Remus loves colourful things and has a penchant for dramatics
  * In return, Damian tells him that he’s colourblind, and doesn’t really like flowers
  * He’s just buying some for his Mom
  * Before they can talk any more, or even exchange contact information, they get called up
  * Damian leaves with his flowers and heads straight to his Mom’s grave
  * By the time he’s finished telling her about recent updates in his life, it’s already night
  * There’s an email on his phone reminding him that he has another case lined up immediately, and that he should get ready for that
  * Which means another all nighter
  * Which means that Damian needs coffee
  * Which means that he rolls up to the nearest coffee shop on his GPS
  * Which means that he walks through the door, and the barista shatters the mug he was holding
  * If Damian was holding anything, he’s pretty sure he’d drop it too because he was looking at his childhood friend and crush
  * Virgil may have dyed his hair and gained a new emo fashion sense, but Damian would recognise him anywhere
  * There were a few stragglers in the coffee shop, but they all pretended not to see the usually dry and sarcastic barista jump over the counter and nearly knock some man in a suit over with how forceful the hug might bee
  * Damian was also hugging Virgil a little too tight but who gives a shit?
  * Virgil is still a little iffy around physical contact, but this was Damian. Virgil missed him
  * And despite Damian’s barbed tongue and the glare that could freeze the sun itself, he’s never intentionally hurt Virgil
  * So the two of them catch up
  * Virgil explains the deal with Remus and Roman and Damian is open to it
  * As long as he can stay with Virgil, he doesn’t mind. He’s lost Virgil once before, and since it’s obvious that Virgil cares for these two, then Damian didn’t mind
  * .
  * The last to join them are Logan and Patton
  * Both of them were already dating when the whole thing began
  * They met in a local art museum in Florida
  * Every year, the museum exhibits pieces from art students in the district
  * It was during one of Logan’s vacation flights, a couple of months ago
  * He saw the opportunity for something peaceful and relaxing, and he took it
  * Patton liked to go to the yearly student display because he loved seeing their work
  * He may be a kindergarten teacher, but sometimes he does work as a substitute in highschools and middle schools
  * And he recognises some of the names on the canvasses and it’s always a fun time when he meets a familiar face during these events
  * He and Logan met in that museum, and they hit it off
  * Logan was kind of awkward about it all, probably since Patton approached him with enough bounce to turn the museum into a funhouse, but it was all well and good
  * They got along incredibly well. Patton kept up with a lot of Logan’s interest and Logan took notes on Patton’s teaching methods for the conferences and seminars he was invited to
  * Soon, their close friendship blossomed into something more
  * Logan still lives and works in Virginia, but whenever he gets the opportunity to see Patton in person, he takes it
  * And when he can’t make it there physically, they video call each other
  * Sex is not necessary for a relationship to flourish
  * Patton didn’t think it was all that important, not when he can see Logan’s face and hear his voice and watch Logan’s eyes light up when he talks about something he loves
  * And Logan isn’t interested in sex at all
  * They talk to each other a lot, and once Patton heard that Logan was coming to Florida for a convention, he was super extra chipper the weeks leading up to it
  * His bouncy attitude attracted Remus, one of the people who comes over to the rehab center Pat volunteers in
  * Remus is nice, albeit a little bizarre
  * They share almost no interests in common
  * Almost no interest because both of them can’t shut up about their loved ones
  * Upon prompting, Patton never shuts up about Logan, how incredibly proud he is of his boyfriend, etc
  * Remus talks about his brother a lot. And this guy named Virgil. And Virgil’s boyfriend Damian
  * Which, okay, confused Patton a little bit, but he picked up on it real quick
  * Remus talks about soulmates a lot
  * Not _his_ soulmate, but the concept in general
  * And Patton kind of recounts his experiences with it. And Remus tells him about how the four of them didn’t really vibe with the soulmate thing: Remus, his brother, Virgil, and Damian
  * That kind of gets Patton
  * Because he also “doesn’t vibe with the soulmate thing” and it made him think
  * Logan also meets someone from the quartet. Damian. And later, Roman.
  * After Logan flew in, he met with Patton first and got settled in
  * Then, while Patton was at work, Logan looked around
  * He liked to arrive a few days early so he can have time with Patton, and so he can adjust his schedule if something happened to delay or prolong the event
  * And something did delay the event
  * Apparently, some hotshot celebrity was in the city and the media caught wind of it
  * For scheduling reasons, the convention was moved a few dates down in the hope that the flood of people would dwindle
  * Logan was staying far the fuck away from that mess by visiting his favourite library
  * Grabbed a couple of books, and settled down to read near the window
  * On his way there, someone else abruptly turned the corner and almost knocked Logan down
  * He apologised and was just about to leave when he spotted some of the books Logan was carrying:
  * Technical books on psychology
  * And Logan recognises several of the books the other man was holding as well: philosophy books
  * The man introduced himself as Damian and the two of them spent an afternoon talking books and philosophy and psychology and all kinds of technical shit
  * Since Logan didn’t wear long sleeves that day (it was unfairly hot), Damian noticed his soulmarks
  * Strangely, he didn’t ask
  * Logan shared anyway, because it didn’t matter to him
  * He never met any of his three soulmates
  * And besides, relationships work because of the people in them. The trust. The communication
  * Forcing a relationship because of a couple of marks didn’t feel right
  * Which is a sentiment that Damian wholeheartedly shared
  * And for the four days until Logan’s convention, they met up in the library
  * Talked a lot. Debated. Played chess on Damian’s tablet
  * For the first time since Patton, Logan has a friend. A genuine non-work-related friend
  * Damian doesn’t talk about his work or his family much
  * Sure, he’s dedicated to his work, and he adores his Mom but when they hang out, Damian either talks technical or talks relationships
  * Usually, it’s Virgil
  * Logan has heard so so much about Virgil, he would have been able to pick him out of a crowd
  * But Logan has also heard about Roman. And Remus.
  * Damian only ever dropped Virgil’s name. He only referred to Roman as Princey, and Remus as Ree
  * Which is why Logan never connected Princey to the celebrity that was the entire reason why Logan’s convention was delayed
  * And frankly, his reaction to meeting Roman was a little embarrassing
  * “You’re the bastard that got the convention delayed”
  * Not a good way to make a first impression
  * Thankfully, Roman wasn’t offended. And Damian found it hilarious
  * Roman came to pick Damian up for Virgil’s date night
  * Logan excused himself since he also had to pick Patton up from the rehab centre and they parted ways in high spirits
  * .
  * All six of them came together on Roman’s last day in Florida
  * The party Roman was invited to was over, and he was supposed to go and get filmed for a new movie
  * So he planned to hang out with Virgil and Remus and Damian at the coffee shop, then go back to Virgil’s home once the shop closes for movies and cuddling
  * He was not the only one who went to the coffee shop
  * With the convention was over, the hype about Roman Foster dying down, everything was calm again
  * And since Logan had some time before he needed to get back to work, Patton wanted to take Logan out on a date
  * There’s this coffee shop that Remus recommended
  * Neither of them cared for fancy stuff anyway
  * Plus, the jelly donuts were supposedly really good
  * One, Logan can’t say no to Patton
  * Two, Logan absolutely loved jelly donuts
  * So of course they went
  * When they opened the door, they see a lot of familiar faces
  * Remus went for the tactile greeting, almost crushing Patton with the tightest hug
  * Damian and Remus went for the more subtle approach, waving at Logan instead
  * Virgil got introduced to them both, and they all got along well
  * All of them hung out that night, having fun and making jokes
  * Of course, Roman had to leave for his job in the morning
  * And in a few days, Logan went back to Virginia
  * They all maintained contact, though
  * Good friends are hard to find
  * And soon, they all became more than friends
  * None of them are soulmates
  * And when they were out in public and people don’t see matching names or colours or ink or whatever on their skin, they get more than a couple of stares
  * But Fate fucked up
  * The six of them just have to fix things themselves




	19. Day 19: Remile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A reasonably-sized bullet fic about a Remile date night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompts given by [TS Ship Month 2020](https://tsshipmonth2020.tumblr.com/)  
> Read it on Tumblr [HERE](https://hufflepuff-deceit.tumblr.com/post/190974873759/fluffuary-2020-remile)  
> 

  * Date night with these two would be really, really chill
  * Remy is an Extra™ Bitch but you don’t need to be Extra or Fancy when you’re spending a night with someone you love
  * Besides, picture this:
  * It’s late in the evening, both of them are ready to unwind and relax
  * Instead of having to drive to get somewhere, they can just have fun in their home
  * Like, Remy can prep the couch
  * Throw some blankets over it, add a couple of pillows
  * House has a bunch of them to spare anyway
  * Push the ottoman up against the couch so they can both rest their feet
  * Get even more blankets so he and Emile can cocoon themselves in warmth
  * Ooh, throw in a movie too
  * Put on one of those animated thingies Emile loves so much
  * The two of them can cuddle up on the couch and watch
  * Emile would make the food
  * Between the two of them, he was the better cook
  * Made the best pasta ever
  * But maybe Remy and Emile would eat dinner at the table
  * Emile would scoot the chairs over until he was beside Remy
  * Not exactly proper etiquette, but Emile liked being close to Remy
  * And Remy liked being close to Emile
  * And they’d make small talk and finish up dinner and get ready to snuggle on the couch
  * Remy would go make the popcorn while Emile picked the movie
  * He’s the one with better film taste
  * Then when everything is all set up, they get to the couch and cuddle
  * Both of them wrap up in blankets and sit shoulder to shoulder
  * Remote is nearby
  * Bowl of popcorn is nearby
  * Emile picks a light-hearted family movie
  * It’s probably funny. And animated
  * Lots of singing involved
  * But Remy doesn’t mind
  * After all, most movie nights go the same way
  * Emile would be watching very closely
  * Remy would watch with him for a time
  * Then Remy would lean his head against Emile’s shoulder
  * And Emile would wrap his arm around Remy’s shoulder
  * And Emile was warm
  * And he was a perfect pillow
  * And Remy would fall asleep still leaning on his husband
  * Emile would finish the movie, of course
  * But Remy was a deep sleeper so even if the movie was loud, he wouldn’t wake
  * And once the movie was finished, Emile would recline them both on the couch
  * Him lying on his back, Remy curled around on top of him
  * And he’d say that it was only for five more minutes
  * Then he’d take Remy upstairs to the bedroom
  * But every time, those five more minutes turn to ten
  * Then to twenty
  * Emile just likes looking as his husband’s sleeping face
  * Before he knew it, Emile would fall asleep too
  * So yeah, date night is chill
  * And the don’t have to go someplace fancy or do something special
  * Because everything is special when they’re together




	20. Day 20: Remy/Side

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Valentine's coffee date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompts given by [TS Ship Month 2020](https://tsshipmonth2020.tumblr.com/)  
> Read it on Tumblr [HERE](https://hufflepuff-deceit.tumblr.com/post/190980539089/fluffuary-2020-remyside)  
> 

Every year, on Valentine’s day, they go to the same coffee shop and spend hours sitting at a table. The owner knows them; hard not to with how often Remy frequented the establishment. Logan made dry remarks about Remy wanting to divorce him so he could marry Mr. Deerling’s special pumpkin spice latte. Remy rolled his eyes and mock-laughed at that.

Remy may be the one who practically breathed for the coffee, but Logan quite liked it here too. The owner has since invented a powdered sugar crofters-filled jelly donut. Logan could, quite literally, spend the rest of his life eating them. It wasn’t the only reason he liked it here, though.

This place meant something to both of them. They met here. They hung out here. Memories hung around every corner; smiles and laughter and first kisses.

Remy asked Logan out here, sitting at the same table they always did. They always took the table right against the window, where Logan could look outside and observe the cars and the people that zoomed by. It was also a great seat for Remy; when the sun hits just right, Logan’s eyes seemed to glow. And it’s super cheesy or whatever, but the sight of Logan serenely looking out the window while he nursed a cup of coffee always took his breath away.

They were sitting at the same table again today. Once again, Logan watched the world go by through the window, face propped up on his arm propped up on the table. Every now and again though, Logan would glance back at Remy, and he’d smile. Remy would smile back.

Logan finished his donut an hour ago, but his coffee wasn’t even halfway finished. Remy himself had finished his drink. He could go up to the counter to buy another one, but frankly, he didn’t want to. Coffee’s good and all, but Remy has something better.

A thought crossed Logan’s mind. It was easy to tell; his head jerked up suddenly, and his eyes widened as his brain worked itself into overdrive. “Whilst I was working yesterday, a thought crossed my mind. I can’t believe I forgot to tell you until now. You’re fond of sweets as well as chocolate, aren’t you, Love?” Remy nodded absentmindedly, paying more attention to the way Logan’s lips moved than the words that came from him. “Well, I’ve heard that the mall nearby has recently stocked some new chocolate flavours. One of which are chocolate coffee truffles. Would you like to visit the mall today and get some?”

Almost unconsciously, Remy’s hand found its way to Logan’s, tangling their fingers together. Logan squeezed his hand. “Maybe later,” Remy said. He wanted to stay like this for just a little longer.


	21. Day 21: Emile/Side

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That stereotype about nerds not being able to play sports? A total fucking lie. Because Emile Picani is quite possibly one of THE nerdiest people in school. He was also captain of the soccer team. And he's dating Damian.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompts given by [TS Ship Month 2020](https://tsshipmonth2020.tumblr.com/)  
> Read it on Tumblr [HERE](https://hufflepuff-deceit.tumblr.com/post/190982456919/fluffuary-2020-emileside)  
>   
>   
> I know absolutely nothing about soccer

That stereotype about nerds not being able to play sports? A total fucking lie. A fabrication. A goddamn bullshittery of the highest calibre.

Because Emile Picani is quite possibly one of THE nerdiest people in school. Good grades, glasses, dorky smile. Mathlete, part of the art club, can probably name off every single pokemon if prompted. He was also the captain of the soccer team. And for someone so soft, Captain Emile Picani can kick a ball so hard, it cuts through the air like a knife in hot butter.

Damian was not a sports person. Didn’t even know the rules. At all. He just liked dropping by the field during soccer practise to enjoy the view. After all, in class, Emile was all sunshine and smiles and giddy hand flapping. Out here, he was  _ different _ . In a good way, of course. Damian may shirk at the mere idea of getting his nails dirty, but that didn’t mean that he couldn’t enjoy a rugged Emile diving for the ball with such gusto that his shoes kicked up dirt and mud around him.

Playing soccer brought out a different side to Emile. He was more aggressive, less wishy-washy, and he tended to be more… commanding. If anyone asked, Damian was just curious. Not that anyone would ask: by now, the entire school knew that Damian and Emile were a thing.

The Guiles-Picani relationship was considered one of Westwood High’s seven unsolvable mysteries.

Emile was bubbly and active and helpful. Damian was Damian. Smart, cunning, but a complete and total asshole.

(In fact, Damian was such a snide, snarky bastard that there was a secret group chat in the school. Entirely dedicated to circulating candid photos of Damian’s usual “danger glare” melting away to become a mushy at Emile’s hands. Half the school knew that no paint could ever be as red as Damian’s face whenever Emile kissed his cheek for good luck before a game.)

And the whole school knew that Damian got a front-row seat to every soccer game.

He was, however, rather late to Westwood High’s final soccer match of the year. The final match in the highschool nationals, competing for first place.

But come on. Can you blame him? It’s raining -nay- pouring outside. Of course he was gonna be late. No game was worth Damian breaking an ankle, even if it’s Emile’s game.  _ Especially _ if it was Emile’s game. Knowing him, Emile would rather Damian not show up at all, rather than get hurt trying to get there.

Not that Damian was going to miss this match. He wasn’t going to cheer or anything, but he at least wanted to be there to support Emile. It was the biggest event of the year for Emile. While Damian may not know jack shit about soccer, he knew that the sport meant a lot to his boyfriend. All those after-hours spent practising, the sweat and the tears and the bitter smiles whenever he missed a goal. Damian wanted to see it. And he wanted Emile to see him, sitting on the front-row like Damian promised he would.

Well, if Emile could see anything at all. The rain was coming on thick. Damian wished he hadn’t left the house in such a hurry: he forgot his jacket. A cotton short-sleeve shirt did no good against rain and cold wind. Damian shivered. The wind bit into his skin as he sprinted towards the stadium. It abated for just a moment, when Damian got inside the stadium to show one of the guards his ticket. She looked a mixture of amused and concerned at his appearance. Damian looked like a drowned rat.

When he got to his seat on the front row, he felt once again the bitter wind. If Damian were dry, it would no doubt have buffeted his hair all around him. As it were, all the wind did was make Damian shiver even more. Even with a roof over his head, the rain still found him; it was like there wasn’t a roof at all. Curse the asshole who decided that an open stadium was a good idea. Sure, there was a roof overhead the seats, but none of that mattered if the wind was strong enough to still make people wet.

Oh, well.

At least Damian can see Emile. Somewhat. It was hard to see anything past a blur of bodies at all on the field, but with his school’s abysmal pink jerseys and Emile’s hair partly dyed magenta, Damian spotted his boyfriend easily.

Dirt caked the lower half of Emile’s jersey, as well as his shorts. His normally well-kept hair was damp and lying flat on his head. Emile brushed it away. Emile didn’t like contacts: he wore sports glasses when he played. It looked more like goggles from where Damian was sitting, but it didn’t seem to bother Emile. Damian couldn’t tell from this far away, but it looked like Emile was taking heaving breaths. Not three minutes of watching, and Damian understood why.

Their opponent kicked the ball; a neighbouring school with a black and blue jersey that stood out against Westwood High’s pink and white. (Who thought white jerseys worn in a dirty playing field was a good idea? Seriously. Stains would be a bitch to get out.) The opposing team’s number three was good. Even someone like Damian could tell. He moved with efficiency, never wasting even a single inch of movement. And he was fast.

The opponent’s number three powered through all of Westwood’s guards, weaving in and out with purpose. The ball flew in out of nowhere, a blur of black and white. Number three reared his leg back and kicked it so hard Damian had thought that his leg would fall off from the impact. It whizzed through the air, heading straight for Westwood’s goal.

Emile intercepted it. He dove in the ball’s path, kicking it away towards one of his teammates before falling to the ground. Damian’s breath caught in his throat. He released it not a second later as Emile got back up, yelling something that was lost to the cacophony of the pouring rain. They were instructions, Damian realised belatedly. Orders. A strategy Emile came up with then and there for his team to take the point. Westwood moved in.

Damian watched them work in unison, like a hivemind with the sole intent of scoring a goal. He didn’t care for sports, but watching all of them play was mesmerising. The ball went back and forth, push and pull. Emile manipulated it as easily as though he were taking notes, or listing off the names of his favourite cartoon characters. Damian could barely keep track of everything.

“GOAL!!!!”

The announcer caught Damian so off-guard that he jerked.

“Wonderful, wonderful play from Westwood High’s captain! In case you didn’t catch that, ladies and gentlemen, number four expertly got past all of Eastside’s defenses and scored a goal for the history books! What a kick! Momentum is rolling now but- OH! You hear that? That is the sound of halftime, people. All of our boys out on the field will be taking a quick break, but fret not, this glorious battle will no doubt continue as we-”

Damian stopped listening to the announcer. He’s pretty good at tuning people out and with the rain and the cold and Emile’s smiling face as he hugged his teammates, Damian had plenty to focus on.

When Emile laughed, he tended to hunch over. Dipped his head, raised his shoulders, pulled his arms close. It was clear that he was laughing now, thrilled at scoring a goal, and outright delighted at the attention his teammates were giving him. His smile was blinding. Even from across the stadium, when Damian looked at him, his heart ached with the desire to hold Emile in his arms.

Obviously, Damian can’t do that right now, but his heart was a stupid idiot who can’t seem to calm down whenever Emile was around.

And it only sped up when Emile finally looked up. His eyes locked onto Damian’s immediately. If he looked delighted before, he was downright ecstatic right now. He bounced on his feet, waving enthusiastically and shouting greetings that Damian couldn’t quite hear. The smile told him everything though, and Damian waved back with breath stolen from his lungs. He felt religious.

It’s almost like the skies were clear and the rain had stopped. Damian didn’t feel cold.

During halftime, Emile liked to talk to his teammates. Praise them for what they did right, and gently coax them into doing things differently if they fucked up. This time though, Emile only went to his team’s side of the pitch for a brief moment before he was once again out and about. Running towards Damian. Emile’s embroidered varsity jacket was in his hands.

Without words, Damian understood what Emile was trying to do.

By now, the people with working eyes and a decent enough understanding of body language probably picked up on the Thing between Damian and Emile. Some of them even smiled cheekily at Damian as he nearly tripped over their legs in his haste to get out of his seat. He can’t go into the field, but he can at least get to the fence blocking him off.

Emile met him there, breathless and cheeks flushed with adrenaline. “You came,” he said. And he grinned so wide Damian could have sworn that he fell in love with Emile all over again.

“I had nothing better to do today,” Damian grumbled. But as soon as he and Emile were close enough, he couldn’t help but reach out and pull Emile into a tight hug. It didn’t matter that Damian’s partially-dried clothing got drenched once more. There was no roof over the field: Emile was soaking. It didn’t matter though. “You did good out there.”

“I thought you knew nothing about sports?”

“Of course I know shit about sports. I was just making a guess.”

Emile giggled. It was so adorable it should be fucking illegal. “Were you watching me, Dee?” Damian couldn’t answer. But the furious blush on his cheeks was answer enough. “Thank you for coming to see me. Even though you got soaked. And I-”

“Ruined my shirt with all the mud on your jersey, yeah.” Damian leaned forward and pecked Emile on the cheek. “You better make this up to me. This is my favourite shirt and now it’s covered in mud.”

Emile squinted at the cartoon sylveon printed on the front. “This was my shirt first though…”

“Which is why it’s my favourite!” It still kind of smelled like Emile’s favourite laundry fragrance, even after months with Damian. He didn’t plan on returning the shirt. “So after your team wins -and you WILL win- you better make this up to me.”

“I will. I promise.” Emile kissed him. Not on the cheek as Damian did, but an actual, proper kiss. Then Emile handed Damian his varsity jacket. “It’s cold,” Emile whispered against Damian’s lips, “you hate the cold.”

“If you give this to me,” Damian began, “I’m not returning it.”

“Keep it.” Emile smiled and kissed Damian again. Half-time was almost over. “This is my last game in highschool anyway. Then we graduate. I won’t need that jacket anymore.”

“Okay.”

Half-time was over. The game resumed. Emile returned to the field, smiling brighter than ever before. Whenever he scored a goal, or kept someone on the opposing team from doing so, he flashed a smile towards the bleachers.

He couldn’t really be seen from all the way out in the centre of the field, but Damian smiled back anyway. It was still cold. The wind still mercilessly pelted everyone with rain. Damian wasn’t as bothered by it anymore. Emile’s jacket was just as warm and cozy as Damian imagined it to be and he pulled the fabric closer to himself as he watched his boyfriend run and kick and jump.

Before he reached the stadium, Damian swore to himself that he wouldn’t cheer. Too ungainly for someone like him. But right before the buzzer signalled the game’s end, someone scored the winning goal.

It was Emile. He pumped his fist up in victory as his teammates crowded him. The stadium erupted with triumphant cheering. Damian cheered the loudest.


	22. Day 22: Choice OT3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Logan has a splitting headache. Remus and Deceit take care of him.
> 
> Otherwise known as: the author felt sick and decided to project

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompts given by [TS Ship Month 2020](https://tsshipmonth2020.tumblr.com/)  
> Read it on Tumblr [HERE](https://hufflepuff-deceit.tumblr.com/post/610896030448467968/fluffuary-2020-choice-ot3)  
> 

“Want me to kill God for you?” Remus giggled. No matter how many times Logan told him to stay away, Remus kept coming back. Sticking his face in Logan’s personal space. Crawling onto the same bed and lying down beside Logan who was, by the way, stricken with fever. “I will kill God for you if you ask, Logi.”

Can Sides even get sick? Logan didn’t think so but evidently, he was wrong. Logan felt nauseous. He had a migraine. Vertigo made the room figuratively spin a dozen different ways. If Sides could get sick, then Remus could catch his fever, given how close he stayed to Logan. He shouldn’t be here, but Remus was one of the few good things that Logan had right now. He can’t bear to send Remus away.

The door to his bedroom opened. Deceit had four arms out: one to shut the door behind him, the other three to balance a large tray. “How the fuck would killing god make Logan better? That has nothing to do with his fever,” Deceit sighed. “Remus, I swear your brain is filled with nothing but static some days. You could at least not get so close to Logan; you’ll catch his fever too.” Despite his harsh words though, Deceit leaned down and met Remus in a frankly messy kiss.

“Are you serious? Right in front of my food?” Logan rasped and whoa. His voice sounded completely mangled. Although the raising of body temperature to eliminate any viruses within his body was necessary, Logan cursed the fact that he sounded like he smoked ten packs a day.

“Logan, honey, the term is ‘Right in front of my salad.” Remus obligingly moved out of the way so Deceit could set the tray down on the table. “And I’d hate to rain on your parade, but that meme is long dead and gone,” Deceit muttered. Then he rolled his eyes and smiled. And, like a hypocrite, Deceit kissed Logan too.

Remus poked Deceit in the side. Deceit slapped his hand away. “Are you gonna get sick too?” he pouted. Then he grinned. Maniacally. “The three of us can get sick together! And we can all cuddle in bed and it won’t even matter because we’re all fucked anyway.”

“Yes, yes, but eat first.” Deceit made more than just soup for Logan. There was soup for Remus too. There was even a plate of bread and cheese, with a jar of Crofter’s for Logan. “Remus darling, I put something extra in your soup. Logan, I made yours perfectly normal, don’t worry.”

“Thank you,” said Logan as he picked up his bowl of soup. Remus was already scarfing down his.

“I don’t want your thanks,” Deceit huffed. “Just get better so I don’t have to make soup anymore. It’s annoying.”

“Baffoo thooie meeyay,” Remus said around a mouthful of food. He had already finished his soup, even though it was scalding hot, and moved on to shoveling bread in his mouth. It was quite telling that Logan understood what he was saying. But you do it anyway, said with a smug grin. Remus swallowed. “You love us, Dee.”

Deceit can claim that he hates taking care of Logan and Remus all he wants, but clearly, he doesn’t mind cooking as much as he lets on. The utterly smitten look on his face proved that. “Remus, I can and I will rip your tongue out.”

“Ooh, what else are you gonna do to me? C’mon, don’t be a tease.”

Logan loved this. The easy atmosphere between the three of them. Remus would push and push and push both of them, but he never went too far. He teased and he flirted, but his tender touches were far more gentle than anyone would expect of him. And Deceit may act like he hated both of them, like taking care of them was a chore, but he was the one who always popped in on them and asked if they needed anything. He’s the one who made them both soup while Remus was busy watching over Logan.

The vitriolic and sometimes antagonistic nature of their banter couldn’t disguise the fact that they loved each other. And they loved Logan. And even though Logan was burning up with a fever, both of them still stayed with him.

“You look so cute right now,” Remus cooed. Only he would find someone as red-faced and bed-ridden as Logan cute. “Soooo cute. I could squish your head no problemo. Squish!”

“Both of you are disgusting,” Deceit deadpanned. “I’m leaving before I contract all this mushiness.” When he stood up, he took the tray and the dirty dishes with him. “Don’t expect me to come back.”

Remus waved him goodbye. Deceit flipped him off as he left Logan’s room. With the tray gone, Remus went back to laying beside Logan, under the covers. Remus really shouldn’t stay, he could get sick as well. Logan knew better than to argue with him though: Remus can be painfully stubborn when he wants to be. “Is it bad?”

As if on cue, a spike of pain shot through Logan. “Yes,” he said with a wince. Logan pulled the blanket up higher and shut his eyes. If he opened them right now, the room would spin.

“How bad? Is it painful? Does it hurt?” Remus giggled, then he quickly tried to stifle himself so Logan doesn’t get bothered with the noise. Remus wrapped his arms around Logan, nuzzling against his neck. “You need to get better soon. It’s not fun if you’re sick all day.”

The door opened again. Deceit slipped back inside and wasted no time in getting on Logan’s other side, so that Logan was sandwiched between his boyfriends. Deceit’s scales were blessedly cool against Logan’s flushed skin. “Logan won’t get better without rest. So shut up and let him sleep.”

Logan smiled. “Both of you will get sick if you stay too long with me.”

“Don’t care!” Remus chimed.

“I won’t get sick,” Deceit insisted.

“If either of you get sick, I’m not helping.”

Logan recovered soon afterward. Two days later, Remus and Deceit both fell ill at the same time. Both of them ended up arguing through their sickness, with Logan coming by every now and again to bring them some chicken noodle soup.


	23. Day 23: Choice Roman Ship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to @ratbastardstan on tumblr for giving me the prompt: “Maybe Roceit where one takes the other on a romantic (turned messy/chaotic) date?”
> 
> Have domestic fluffy newlyweds Roceit having a paint fight in their new home. Sorry it took so long. I hope it was worth the wait!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompts given by [TS Ship Month 2020](https://tsshipmonth2020.tumblr.com/)  
> Read it on Tumblr [HERE](https://hufflepuff-deceit.tumblr.com/post/610941945824657408/fluffuary-2020-choice-roman-ship)  
> 

“You know,” Roman began, “I’m really, really, really glad I married you.” Damian raised a brow. Roman brought in the final box and shut the front door with a grunt. Then he continued, “Real estate agents find  _ the _ best housing. This place is perfect!”

Damian mock-gasped. “THAT was the reason you married me? And here I thought we had a connection. I feel hurt. Betrayed. Filing for divorce as we speak.”

“Not true! I married you for the tax benefits as well.”

They both laughed. With the easy atmosphere between them, it’s kind of hard to believe that they just got married a week ago. Damian felt like he’d known Roman forever. And while getting married to the love of his life was downright paradisiacal, there’s something different about moving in together. The wedding was ethereal. Damian felt as though everything would vanish if he pinched himself. This? This was grounding. Everything felt too real.

They were moving in together. It was so… permanent.

Roman glanced at Damian. Normally, Damian looked a paragon of allure. Not a hair out of place, outfits carefully hand-picked, expression schooled into a smirk that could turn angels to sin. Now, he looked a little lost. Roman stopped his mental calculations for their living room decor and turned to Damian. “You okay? You look a little faint.”

“It’s a little overwhelming,” Damian admitted. “I’d sit down, but unfortunately, we have no furniture because the moving van has ever so graciously decided to take a goddamn four-day detour to New York.” Roman and Damian lived in Florida. If Damian ever met the dumbass responsible for whisking their furniture away on a goddamn vacation, he was going to have a few choice words with the bastard. They had boxes and boxes of stuff, true, but none of it was actual furniture. They can’t fit their sofa into a sedan. And Damian missed their sofa.

Roman resisted the urge to groan. He, too, missed their sofa. It was a comfy sofa. With soft cushions. It will be dearly missed. Roman also missed their bed. It was a comfy bed. With a sturdy frame. It will  _ also _ be dearly missed. But one of them had to stay peppy throughout this whole ordeal. Roman didn’t want their earliest memories of the house to be both of them grumbling over their lost things.

“Where’s the paint?” Roman asked.

It was an unexpected enough subject change that Damian blinked in confusion. Roman won’t say it out loud, but Damian’s brows knit in the cutest way when he’s confused. “I wasn’t even aware that we had paint,” said Damian.

“We do!” Roman bounded over to the boxes lying close to Damian. When they were boxing things for the move, Roman had been in charge of labeling some of the boxes. Aside from his near-illegible handwriting, Roman hadn’t been very diligent with writing. Compared to Damian’s meticulous descriptions, along with examples of what kind of objects were stored in the box, Roman had gone for a more general approach. He did, however, distinctly remember packing some paint in the box labeled ‘decor 1.’ It was buried with other stuff, but after he shuffled the contents a little bit, Roman got what he wanted.

“You can’t seriously be thinking about making a painting amidst all this mess. We haven’t even unpacked the things we  _ were _ able to bring here.”

Despite all his protests though, Damian still dutifully carried the paint buckets and followed Roman through the house. Seriously, Roman hit the goddamn jackpot with Damian. “Since we can’t put up things like beds and dressers anyway, since, well, we don’t have them, why don’t we paint the walls?”

“That’s a job we pay other people to do, Roman.”

“Pssh! Rich people. The way you think is so boring. We don’t need a professional to paint the walls. They’ll ruin my grand design! No. We’re doing this ourselves, and we’re doing this right, and we’re going to have fun while painting. This house is going to be perfect.”

They arrived at the large empty space that would soon become their bedroom. The door opened up to the numerous windows. They faced east, towards the sun: Damian liked feeling them warm his skin in the morning. There was a large closet to the left and an adjacent bathroom all the way to the right. The walls were flawless with a patterned trim running a little lower than what Roman was used to seeing. If not for the hideous orange paint, the room would have been perfect.

Damian set the paint buckets down close to the far wall, closest to the bathroom door. Roman handed him a roller and popped open one of the buckets. “Damian, my darling dear, I am not waiting another minute more. Neon orange does not go with a bedroom. It does not go with any room at all, actually.” Oh, Damian must be so glad to be colourblind. This room was just an affront to the senses. No sense of elegance at all! “Besides, won’t it be fun to paint?”

And, just to sell it, Roman pouted.

The result was immediate.

Damian groaned in defeat. “That’s fucking cheating and you know it.” Roman just poked his tongue out rather childishly. The puppy dog eyes always wins. “Fine. Okay. Do you want to recolour just this room, or are you taking your stupid painting agenda all around the house?”

Baby blue would look so good in the bathroom. And their living room can be a homey yellow. So many ideas popped up one after another in Roman’s head, it was hard to keep track of them all. But for now, he just wanted to retouch the master bedroom. Just because Damian can’t see colour, doesn’t mean that he should live in a god-awful wannabe Lorax of a bedroom. “Okay so! We cover the whole wall with pink. And then, I touch it up with white details. Just little swirls and spirals to make it more homey. Maybe-”

“Roses,” Damian interjected. “I know you’ll paint roses somewhere, so you might as well make it uniform across the whole bedroom wall.”

“You know me so well.”

Even though Damian didn’t really plan on spending this day painting his new house, he can’t say no to Roman. And, against all odds, he was having fun. Granted, there was nothing remotely interesting about having to paint a wall all day. To Damian, the new colour Roman picked out barely looked any different from before. So it didn’t really matter to him that much. But simply existing here with Roman was enough.

Damian tackled painting the same way he did everything else in life. It was planned. Methodical. Strokes as straight and even as he could get despite barely being able to differentiate between the ‘dawn pink’ and the ‘hideous orange’ paint. Not a few feet beside him, Roman was all over the place. Spontaneous. Expressive. It was clear that Roman found enjoyment in something as simple as this. Or perhaps he enjoyed it so because he was doing it with Damian. Whatever the reason, Damian counted himself lucky to call Roman his husband.

That is, until Roman turned back to look at him. The cheeky smile Roman had made Damian reconsider saying ‘I do.’

“See something you like?” Roman teased. Most of the western half of the room was already painted. Damian had to squint to see the difference, but it was there. Roman could afford to take a break and siddle up next to Damian. “I mean, I don’t blame you. I’m a snack, after all.”

Roman gently pulled Damian closer, carefully pointing his roller away from Damian’s nice shirt. They met in a kiss, chaste but no less tender. When they parted, they stayed close enough for Damian to rest his forehead against Roman’s. “I think you’re a full-course meal all by yourself.”

They noticed it at the exact same time with comically similar reactions.

First, their eyes wandered over to Damian’s bicep, widening as realisation dawned in. Their mouths hung slightly open in a small o shape. Damian, despite being colourblind, can still tell when there was a handprint stain on his pristine white shirt. Roman, while he smartly turned his roller away, failed to notice that his other hand had accidentally brushed against the wet paint on the wall. That wet paint was now on Damian’s shirt. It would probably stain.

Roman pulled away abruptly. “Shit!” he exclaimed. “I’m sorry Dee!” He reached for Damian’s face, automatically trying to hold him to make sure Damian knew that he didn’t mean it, but then he remembered that his hand was still covered in paint. Roman stepped away again, unsure of what to do with his hands. “Sorry! I swear I’m not trying to ruin your shirt on purpose. I didn’t realise.”

“It’s just a shirt Roman.” Damian merely sighed. Before Roman could apologise even further, Damian took his roller and painted a stripe directly on Roman’s forearm. Roman was speechless. “There,” Damian smirked. “We’re even.”

It took only a moment for Roman to react. Damian shrieked with laughter as Roman assaulted him with paint all over his clothes, his face, his hair. Not one to be outdone, Damian fought back. Discoloured stripes marred Roman’s perfectly put together look. A giant x across his chest, a stripe from his forehead up to his hair. Damian covered Roman’s neck with paint.

Recolouring the walls was forgotten as they chased each other around the room, laughing like madmen. They only stopped when their rollers had become completely devoid of paint. Both of them collapsed onto the floor, chests heaving with breathless giggles. Their shirts were not the only casualty of the impromptu paint fight. The floor was a mess.

It seemed worth it, though.

Roman was beaming. For a man with one side of his face coloured pink, he didn’t seem bothered at all. He was beaming. “Well, well, well. I didn’t think you had it in you, Damian Guiles.”

“Correction. That’s Damian  _ Kingsley _ -Guiles.” If possible, Roman’s smile widened. “And as much as I enjoyed this game with you, my Love, I am covered in paint and I’d rather get myself clean again.”

“Big same.” Roman stood up. He pulled Damian up as well. Both of their rollers were carelessly tossed onto the floor. They’d clean it later. “Shower?”

There was something in Roman’s eyes that made Damian raise a brow. “You’re not going to pull a stunt in there. Are you?”

Roman mock-gasped. “Me? Never! I am offended that you would even think that, Damian. Shame on you for not trusting your husband.”

“You’re a terrible liar, Roman,” Damian teased.

But then again, fooling around in the shower with his husband didn’t sound like a bad idea.


	24. Day 24: Choice Logan ship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’M NOT ROMAN! I WILL NEVER BE ROMAN. I’M MY OWN GODDAMN SIDE AND ALL I WANT IS FOR EVERYONE TO STOP TRYING TO MAKE ME BE LIKE MY FLAWLESS PERFECT BROTHER. I DESERVE TO EXIST AS MYSELF!”
> 
> A tumblr anon requested Remus or Logan angst and queerly-a-hisssstory-momster requested intrulogical so I'm giving y'all intrulogical angst

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompts given by [TS Ship Month 2020](https://tsshipmonth2020.tumblr.com/)  
> Read it on Tumblr [HERE](https://hufflepuff-deceit.tumblr.com/post/611035252594524160/fluffuary-2020)  
> 

Approximately thirty-seven point eight seconds had passed for Logan to fully understand what was going on. That was far too long. He can’t believe he didn’t realise it sooner. When Logan opened the door to his bedroom and found Roman sitting on his bed unannounced, swaddled up in a cocoon of blankets, he should have noticed that something was amiss. Things were fundamentally  _ wrong _ in a way that he couldn’t quite explain, but nevertheless understood on a base, instinctual level.

And yet, it took him more than half a minute to metaphorically connect the dots.

Not only did Logan see Roman prior to his ascent of the stairs, Roman had never once lounged around Logan’s room with familiarity. Of course, Logan was more than happy to converse with him here, should Roman agree, but this was  _ Logan’s _ space. Roman always remarked that it was too professional-looking. Too rigid. Roman would never feel comfortable enough to sit in the centre of Logan’s bed. He would never be comfortable enough to sloppily eat cookies and let crumbs fall on Logan’s pristine bedsheet.

And lastly, but perhaps the most damning evidence of all: Roman’s eyes were brown.

They weren’t brilliant, mesmerising pools of gorgeous acid green. Logan should have noticed it sooner.

In those thirty-seven point eight seconds of silence and confusion, Remus had retreated further inside his blanket shield if that was even possible. Only part of his face remained visible. And while Logan may not be the Side of Thomas that deals with emotion, even he could tell that Remus was sad. Desolate, even.

Seeing him like this hurt Logan in a way he can’t describe.

Logan locked his door and sat beside Remus on the bed. Comforting others isn’t one of Logan’s strengths, but for Remus, he would try. At least, that’s what he decided. Now that Logan was here, beside Remus, he wasn’t sure what to say. He felt every deep groan of Remus’ soul. The resignation. The loneliness. Logan was terrified of shattering the silence and he could only hope that Remus understood his intentions.

Remus broke the stillness with a tired sigh. “You thought I was him, didn’t you.” It was not a question. Logan nodded, just barely. Remus deserved his honesty. For those thirty-seven point eight seconds, Logan had thought that Roman somehow snuck into his room and made a mess on his bedsheets. “Did you want me to be Roman?”

“No,” said Logan quickly. His mouth was dry. “While Roman is a dear friend, he isn’t you, Remus. I’d never ask you to change, Love. I’m glad it was you.” Every word weighed heavy with hesitation on his tongue. Logan didn’t want to say the wrong thing. The last thing he wanted was to cause Remus even more pain.

Remus sagged against him. But he let Logan wrap an around his cocoon of blankets; that had to count for something. “You’re the only fucker in the Mindscape who thinks that,” Remus grumbled. “If you even think that at all.”

“I’m glad it was you, Remus,” Logan repeated more firmly this time. “And despite your misgivings towards the others, I am sure that they-”

“That they what!?” Remus snarled and wrenched himself away from Logan’s embrace. In one swift movement, Remus had torn himself from his blanket prison and had taken to pacing on the floor. His footfalls thudded heavily. “That they ‘love’ me and ‘appreciate’ me for who I am? For  _ what _ I am!?” Remus grimaced in pain. Logan hated that expression: it did not suit Remus’ vibrant, evocative self. It was too forlorn. Too melancholic. Too sad.

“For fuck’s sake open your goddamn eyes, Logic. Do you see the way they look at me? Do you see the way they look at  _ Roman _ ?”

Yes, Logan nodded. He saw. He knew. Everything that Remus did was scrutinised, put under a lens, and compared with Roman. From the smallest habits, to the bigger picture. As though Remus was just an extension. An extra. A continuation of what Roman is and what he represented. Roman, but vulgar. Roman, but chaotic. Roman, but  _ wrong _ . Like Remus wasn’t his own Side with his own purpose.

“... fair,” Remus whispered.

“Remus? I didn’t quite hear that.”

“I said it isn’t fair!” Remus stopped pacing a mere few feet from the bed. “It’s not fucking fair to look at me and expect me and Roman to be the same. What does  _ he _ have that I don’t!? Why the fuck am  **I** the unwanted one? He gets all the love and affection and attention and I get fucking NOTHING!” Remus’ entire body trembled. His fists clenched tight enough his knuckles turned white.

For a brief, terrifying moment, Logan realised that he might have given Remus the impression that he liked Roman more. That he mistook Remus for his brother because he preferred Roman’s company. And, Logan realised, Remus must have felt this way for a long time. This anger, this resentment, it doesn’t happen overnight. He should have noticed earlier. Logan bit his lip. “So you shapeshifted to look like Roman…” Because Remus couldn’t stand the sight of himself any longer.

“I want to be loved,” Remus croaked. “I want to walk into a room and be appreciated. I want to be acknowledged and understood and be fucking  _ accepted _ . Is that too much, Logan? Is being accepted as a part of Thomas too fucking much!? I’m just as important as they are. I’m just as important as Roman is! So why- so WHY!? Why the fuck does everyone keep trying to make me be more like him? I’m not Roman.

“I’M NOT ROMAN! I WILL NEVER  **BE** ROMAN. I’M MY OWN GODDAMN SIDE AND ALL I WANT IS FOR  _ EVERYONE _ TO STOP TRYING TO MAKE ME BE LIKE MY FLAWLESS PERFECT BROTHER. I DESERVE TO EXIST AS MYSELF!”

The air felt heavy. Neither of them said a word as Remus’ pain echoed around the room. They both pretended that Remus wasn’t crying. That his face wasn’t wet with tears and that his breathing wasn’t stuttered with agony. Logan wanted to make the pain go away.

He wanted to tell Remus that he was a necessary part of Thomas. That his contributions run deeper than what everyone else could see. Remus was integral. He was the one responsible for urging Thomas to explore mature ideas in his content. The reason why Thomas could create serious themes and tones in his work. Remus does so much and is given nothing in return.

But the words wouldn’t come. Logan didn’t know how to say them. So he just pulled Remus back to the bed as gently as he could. It was a testament to Remus’ exhaustion that he didn’t even argue: he simply let Logan drape the blankets over him again. “You are not your brother.” It was the only thing Logan managed to say. So many words died at the tip of his tongue. “You are not your brother,” Logan repeated. “I love you for who you are, Remus. You don’t need to change. Not for me, and not for anyone else.”

Remus broke. The disguise he wore fell away. Logan saw Remus’ face for only a few moments before Remus buried it against Logan’s shoulder, willing the whole world to go away. His embrace was crushing, and his tears created a wet spot against Logan’s neck. Logan simply hugged Remus back.

Logan only wished that he could do more.


	25. Day 25: Choice Patton Ship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Virgil moved out to go to college months ago. He comes back in the middle of the night and comes out of the closet to his religious dad

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompts given by [TS Ship Month 2020](https://tsshipmonth2020.tumblr.com/)  
> Read it on Tumblr [HERE](https://hufflepuff-deceit.tumblr.com/post/611086324993277952/fluffuary-2020-choice-patton-ship)  
> 

_ Kids grow up too fast _ , Patton thought. It felt like only yesterday when Patton and Virgil baked cupcakes for the first time. Virgil was so hesitant then. He used to look at Patton every step of the way to ask for his approval, and he never so much as touched the baking supplies without supervision. Now, Virgil could bake while multitasking: studying for exams, talking on the phone, watching a show playing from across the living room. And all of his cupcakes turned out delicious.

Every time Patton passed by his kitchen, he was reminded of that moment. The first time he and Virgil ever truly bonded as father and son. Virgil’s first drawing for Patton was still pinned to the fridge with fruit-shaped magnets, the blocky and jagged shapes unlike Virgil’s newer more realistic drawings. It was nostalgic, in a way. A barrage of happy memories every time Patton passed. But it was also sad.

Virgil wasn’t a child anymore.

He’s no longer the kid who knocked on Patton’s door in the middle of the night because his nightmares made him not want to sleep alone. No more family night on the couch where Virgil sits beside Patton only to bury his face in Patton’s side whenever something on tv startled him. Virgil’s room was empty now.

Oh, the bed and the dresser were still there of course. Along with some of Virgil’s old posters and various other knick-knacks, but the room was bare. Spartan. Virgil took almost everything with him when he moved out. Patton told him that he didn’t have to, that he’d always have a home here, but the dorms were closer. And his little bird wanted to fly the nest. Living with your dad wasn’t cool, right? Besides, it made Virgil happy, so Patton didn’t argue. Virgil grew up wonderfully.

No words could describe how  _ proud _ Patton is. How happy he is. As much as he misses his son, Virgil lived his life with smiles and laughter. Virgil decided to pursue his love of art, he decided to step out of his comfort zone and take on a part-time job where he had to talk to people, he made friends and grew out of his tendency to isolate himself.

They still talked, of course. Virgil texted most of the time, but occasionally, he’d call Patton. On the rare occasion, Virgil even video-called him! And if it was a really, really special day, they had dinner together and Patton had the privilege of watching Virgil’s eyes light up in person whenever he talked about his friends or his art or all the little things Patton would never get to see. College was tough, though. Expecting Virgil to see Patton frequently was unreasonable, he knew that. Still. Dinner more than a handful of times a month would be good, wouldn’t it? Virgil could even sleep over if he wanted: Patton kept his room exactly as it was when Virgil moved out.

Everything was too quiet nowadays. The house was empty. Sometimes, when Patton focused, he could still hear the sound of Virgil’s melodic laughter when they baked together, clear as a bell. But that might just be the loneliness.

At some point during his teenage years, Virgil drifted. Patton googled it, asked a couple of his friends who had kids of their own, even asked subtly Virgil one time. Teenagers naturally shy away from their parents. They want to be their own person, have a side of themselves their families didn’t know about, it was natural for them to drift away. It’s supposed to happen.

Still, Patton couldn’t help but feel that something was  _ off _ all those years ago. It’s odd. He hadn’t thought about that in years, not since he accepted the fact that Virgil wanted his privacy. He wondered why he suddenly began reminiscing about the past now.

Oh, well. It’s three in the morning, so Patton might just be overthinking things. He even had work tomorrow, so there’s really no point to him being awake. He had a feeling though… A  _ bad _ feeling.

A couple of minutes passed. Half an hour. An hour.

It’s 4:47am when someone knocked on Patton’s door. Without thinking, Patton abandoned his cup of coffee to answer.

Patton squinted. “Virge?” The night was frigid, and for once, there was no too-large hoodie to shield him against the cold. Virgil had always looked small when he was wearing something three sizes larger, but somehow, he looked even smaller in a simple shirt. “Come in! I’ll turn the heat up and get you a jacket. Should have some of your old clothes hanging ‘round here somewhere!” This was no time for smiles, but Patton felt that if he didn’t at least try to put up a happy front, one of them would break. Virgil’s eyes were red.

Neither of them said anything as Virgil stepped inside, hugging his arms close. Patton shut the door and rushed to make the house more comfortable for Virgil. He turned the AC down, fetched a hoodie, got started on brewing coffee. Something told him that they’d be here for a while.

Virgil sat at the dining table, straight-backed and looking far too professional for someone who just came home. “So-” Virgil croaked. His voice was ragged, exhausted, done. Patton held his tongue and let Virgil clear his throat to try again. “So, uh. Why are you up so late? You answered too quickly for me to have, uh, accidentally woken you up.”

They both knew Virgil was stalling. Patton kept his smile on and played along. “Just had a feeling about tonight I guess.” Even though they were both separated by a table, Virgil looked uncomfortable. Patton leaned away to give his son even more space. “Actually, I think I was daydreaming. Or taking a field trip to nostalgialand. But those are basically the same thing, though, right?” Patton chuckled. Virgil remained silent.

“Y’know, kiddo, I don’t think there’s a reason why I decided to stay up tonight. Just had a feeling, I guess.” But Patton was glad that he stayed awake. Something was wrong with Virgil, and he was not going to rest until he figured out what it was and how he could help. Couldn’t sleep even if he tried.

The timer dinged and Patton slowly stood up. “I’ll get that. You still take your coffee black with one sugar, right, Virge?” All Patton got was a shrug and a nod, and that cemented the budding dread that something happened to Virgil. Virgil always said that coffee is only called ‘black coffee’ if it had nothing added, not even sugar. The fact that Virgil said so little… it was worrying.

Patton brought back two cups and set it on the table. It was purely a formality: neither of them wanted to drink. Virgil was too upset. Patton was too busy trying to figure out a way to unravel this whole thing without looking too pushy.

“How’s school going for you?”

A shrug. “Okay, I guess.”

“Meet anyone new?”

“Not really?”

Patton tapped a finger against the table. “Hmm, oh! I got it. You joined a secret society of artists who use their drawings to fight crime and protect innocent civilians.”

It was so ridiculous that Virgil, even when troubled, snorted. Success.

That smile which Patton cherished so dearly vanished far too quickly though, and Virgil’s sombre mood returned. If anything, he looked even glummer than he did when he walked through the door shivering from the cold. “That’s not what this is about.”

“So what is it about?” Virgil pulled his borrowed jacket tighter. “C’mon. Talk to me. Even if it’s some new thing you kids are using, I’ll do my best to understand. Even I got the hang of the Facebook, right?”

“No one uses Facebook anymore.”

“Aww! Really? And here I found some good old memes on it.” Patton made sure to deliberately mispronounce meme. ‘Meh-meh’ elicited another smile from Virgil, so it was worth it. “So what are the kids using these days?”

“Is there something wrong with me?” Virgil asked, completely shifting gears onto a newer, darker subject. “Am I not like the other kids? Am I  _ wrong _ in some fundamental way?”

“Woah! Slow down there, kiddo.” Patton didn’t like this. He didn’t like the way Virgil bit his lip or tried to wipe away tears before they formed. “There’s nothing wrong with you, Virge. I mean, yeah, your interests  _ are _ a little niche, but there’s nothing wrong with that! You’re perfect just the way you are.” Virgil sighed. “Is someone saying all this stuff about you?”

“No.” Good. Because kid or not, Patton was going to have some gosh-darned  _ words _ if someone told Virgil all that mean stuff. “I just thought that maybe there was something I’m missing. Or if I’m doing something wrong.”

“Wanna tell me about it?”

“I have a friend,” Virgil said. “We’re close, so I thought it was okay if I confessed.”

Ah. Love troubles. Patton had them too when he was younger. Obviously, he was single now, but he remembered what it felt like, back then. Everything seemed too real, too much. “Did she say no? That must have sucked. You’ll meet other girls in the future though, so keep your chin up, kiddo.”

“Not that kind of confession.” Oh. “And I was talking to a guy.” Double oh. “He’s just a friend. Was. Was a friend. I don’t think we’ll be talking anymore.” Triple oh. “He uh- He didn’t accept the fact that I was gay.”

Oh.

Shit.

For a long while, Patton said nothing. What could he say? Obviously, Virgil’s known this about himself for a while. And Patton didn’t know. All those years, even when Virgil was staying under the same roof, Patton didn’t know; didn’t even suspect it. Was that why Virgil suddenly retreated into himself when he was a teenager? Did he realise it? Did he never tell Patton because he was afraid of how Patton would react? Did Patton every say or do something to give off that impression?

Was Virgil lonely? Keeping all of this to himself couldn’t have been easy. ‘Is there something wrong with me?’ The question had already been bad enough, but with this context…

“Virgil I’m so sorry.”

Another shrug. Virgil pretending that the wetness of his face was because of sweat. Patton wishing desperately that he had done more to make Virgil feel more comfortable being himself. “It’s fine. I can’t really do anything about being like  _ this _ anyway.”

“No,” Patton said immediately. “No, that’s not what I meant. I’m sorry that I didn’t realise sooner. And I’m sorry that you lost a friend. But there is nothing wrong with you, Virgil.” Virgil looked away.

Patton moved over to Virgil’s side of the table. He wanted nothing more than to hug his son, but right now, Virgil might not appreciate the sudden contact. So Patton crouched down instead. Just a little bit in Virgil’s line of sight, close enough to touch, if Virgil wanted.

“There’s nothing wrong with you,” Patton repeated. “You’re you. Being gay is just part of you. Like loving art, or always getting jackets that are too large, or watching cryptid videos on youtube. It’s a part of who you are, Virgil and there’s nothing wrong with being yourself.”

Virgil wiped at his eyes again. No matter how much he tried, though, the tears just kept on coming.

Patton wasn’t done yet. “If you were afraid that I was going to reject you, or say something mean, because I’m religious, then I’m sorry for that too. I’m sorry if I made you feel lost or scared or hurt. But I want you to know that the Bible would never condone hatred or prejudice or bigotry. God made you this way for a reason. And He would love you just as much as he loves all His creations. There’s nothing wrong with you, Virgil.”

After that, everything happened a little too fast.

Virgil leapt out of his chair with such ferocity that he knocked the chair over. But Patton couldn’t care less about that. Because Virgil was hugging him for the first time in many months. Patton hugged him back, a little teary-eyed himself.

When they finally parted, Virgil was smiling. Still crying, but no longer as sad. “Sorry,” he said.

“What did we say about apologising for things you don’t need to apologise for?” Patton teased as he helped Virgil back up to his feet. “Sleep over, tonight. I know you don’t have classes tomorrow, and I can always call in at work to tell them I have personal business to take care of.”

Virgil shook his head. “No. That’s- I’m okay now. Really. You have way more important stuff to take care off.”

“Bullshit I do,” said Patton. He didn’t like to swear, but if he had to so Virgil would understand, then he will. “You’re my son, Virgil. You’ll always be my son, no matter what happens. And you’re more important to me than anything else.”

For a moment, Virgil looked like he was going to argue again. Thankfully, he just smiled and nodded. Patton hugged him again, ruffling Virgil’s hair like he used to when Virgil was a kid. “Get some sleep, kiddo. I’ll have pancakes for you in a couple of hours, buttered toast on the side with a cup of coffee.”

“Thanks dad.”

Both of them climbed the stairs together. They had more to talk about, of course, but all that can wait in the morning. Patton waited for Virgil to enter his room before entering his own. He’d have to wake up earlier than he usually did so he can have breakfast ready, but that’s what dads do. They take care of their kids.

Kids grow up too fast. Especially nowadays. It only felt like yesterday when Patton signed Virgil’s adoption papers. Virgil was in college now. But no matter what happens, Virgil will always be Patton’s son.


	26. Day 26: Choice Virgil Ship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prinxiety sonnet, done in iambic pentametre in the Shakespearean style with ABAB rhyme scheme

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompts given by [TS Ship Month 2020](https://tsshipmonth2020.tumblr.com/)  
> Read it on Tumblr [HERE](https://hufflepuff-deceit.tumblr.com/post/611114905107677184/fluffuary-2020-choice-virgil-ship)  
> 

The blushing petals of a summer rose

Wilt and weep for fortune favoured thee

Heaven abandoned mercy and repose

For thou art Aphrodite’s jealousy

I have forgotten the taste of sadness

The monsters in my nightmares plague me not

You carried me away from the darkness

And effortlessly pulled my heartstrings taut

Words die on my tongue, slain by thine beauty

Nothing on heaven or earth could compare

With eyes brighter than stars could hope to be,

A single glance chases away my despair

To thine heart, mine will be forever bound

Long have thy been the keeper of my crown


	27. Day 27: Choice Deceit Ship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt given by @omgsomeonesomewhereonearth on tumblr: Moceit with Punk! Patton.
> 
> Not proofread. Or edited. At all. So uh. If you see any half-completed sentences or weird breaks in the paragraph, that's why. Wanted to get this out as fast as possible so sorry for the mess.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompts given by [TS Ship Month 2020](https://tsshipmonth2020.tumblr.com/)  
> Read it on Tumblr [HERE](https://hufflepuff-deceit.tumblr.com/post/612311246427013120/choice-deceit-ship)  
>   
>   
> im still alive motherfuckers

Damian Guiles reconsidered his friendship with one Remus Kingsley when he was awoken on a fine Tuesday morning by a frantic phone call. Now, mind you, frantic phone calls are just one of the many wonderful things about being the best damn lawyer in the whole damn state. Damian just  _ adored _ getting woken up in the middle of his sleep. Or having his days off stolen away by an ‘urgent’ case. Or dealing with complete and total idiots that test his patience and whatever sliver of hope he has left for humanity.

Really. It was great. Being a lawyer and dealing with a constant stream of mankind’s collective unfettered bullshit was sooooo fun.

And it just so happened that Remus, Damian’s best friend and possibly a local cryptid who is just really good at passing for a human, had a constant stream of bullshit streaming from his mouth. Today’s dilemma was utter nonsense.

“Please rescue the friend I made at the parade yesterday from being charged for punching a guy so hard the guy like, gained a concussion and needed to get several stitches from a hospital because he’s just, you know, not fit for the wonderful delicacies of the slammer and he should be out eating sunshine and cupcakes and not making pottery in prison for like, decking a motherfucker in the face, I mean, just because he dresses like a rad human porcupine with black leather even in Florida heat like a madman doesn’t mean that he’s bad!! He’s good! With bad fashion sense but he’s good! But seriously though, his sense of clothing needs a rehaul. Leather? In this weather? Who does that? Who wears an all-black leather outfit in this weather? The guy’s insane but he’s a friend so I don’t want him to get jailed because he won’t last a day in there but I’m not the lawyer you are so thanks Dee for helping him you’re the best love you kisses xoxo also-” The voicemail ended.

That was it. That was the entire goddamn call.

Yes, Damian was a good lawyer. A great lawyer. But how was he to defend someone who very blatantly assaulted someone else during yesterday’s pride parade? Better yet, how the fuck was he supposed to figure out who Remus’ mystery friend is if he wasn’t given a name, or the address of the jail Damian was supposed to bail said friend out of? Damian was a good lawyer, but he wasn’t a linguist and he isn’t entirely sure that Remus’ call was in English, or even a human language.

And it was his day off! He just finished a big case and was entitled to a few moments of reprieve. Everything told Damian that he should just pretend that he never heard the voicemail and carry on with his life. Maybe he can start binging a new series. There’s a new book he meant to read. Fuck it, Damian could even learn a new language. Anything other than work. Anything other than more lawyering and dealing with stupid people.

Not to mention, Remus sounded drunk. He  _ was _ at a parade yesterday, and the only thing Remus loved more than being a chaotic mess of a human being, was drink. For all Damian knew, this ‘friend’ didn’t even exist and Remus just drunkenly babbled in his voicemail. No one would blame him if he just slept in, shut his eyes, and pretended that he slept through everything and didn’t hear anything. What’s the point in helping some random passerby anyway? Damian wanted his day off. He can just make it up to Remus some other time. Right?

So Damian swung his legs off the side of his bed and groaned with existential fatigue. “Goddammit,” he said to his empty apartment, knowing that he really didn’t have much of a choice. If Remus sounded so distraught over voicemail over this ‘friend’, then Damian had to help.

His clock read 2:37 in the morning. If Damian hurried, then he had time to check which police stations had officers dispatched at the parade, and narrow down his choices until he got to the one holding Remus’ mysterious friend. Hopefully, he could get there before the police formally pin down charges. Damian wanted to talk his way out of a police station before he had to talk his way out of a courtroom.

Ugh. What an awful start to his day.

.

Being interrogated by a really angry police officer looming over him was a really awful start to Patton’s day.

Technically, his day started yesterday morning in the really long and really tiring pride parade. Well, the parading itself was fine. Fun, actually! Pride parades were always fun. Patton met all sorts of people and had a lot of fun enthusiastically waving flags around. Wearing all leather in Florida weather wasn’t the brightest idea, but neither was picking his spiked jackets to go with a crowd full of people, but it all worked out in the end! The punk look contrasted so well with the bright colours of pride and his newly dyed rainbow hair. He gelled it up to look like a mohawk, but by now, his hair had gone kind of flat on his head. Should have dyed the spikes of his outfit to match too.

Maybe then, he wouldn’t have looked as threatening. And if he didn’t look as threatening, maybe the police wouldn’t have arrested him. Patton wasn’t stupid. The only reason he was sitting in an interrogation room was because he looked like a punk, and someone saw him punch another person in the face. Instead of clearing everything up  _ before _ wasting their time taking Patton to the station, the police just picked him up anyway. Because Patton looked the way he looked.

“I didn’t  _ assault _ him, officer,” said Patton again, for the ‘however many number’th time. No one seemed to believe him, but he refused to give up. He knew the law. It wasn’t assault. An assault meant that Patton meant to hurt what’s-his-face and he didn’t! “Punching isn’t automatically assault if I had a reason, and I definitely had a reason! And uh, I asked for my lawyer earlier so. Shouldn’t you be  _ not  _ interrogating me until the lawyer person gets here?”

The officer smiled. It wasn’t a nice smile, and Patton automatically tensed, his hands clenching into tight fists. “I’m not interrogating you, Mr. Deerling, I’m simply trying to have a conversation,” said the officer. “Now, you said you  _ punched _ Mr. Stevenson?”

_ Yeah _ , Patton was about to say, because he did, technically, and he wasn’t about to lie. Before a single syllable could so much as slip from his mouth though, the door to the room burst open.

The tension in the room dissipated as both Patton and the officer turned their attention to the man who just sauntered in. He was handsome, Patton noticed. And rich. His sleek black suit was clearly bespoke, well-pressed, and lovingly cared-for. He shut the door, flashed a suave smile in Patton’s direction, and offered his hand to the police officer in one smooth movement. “My name is Damian Guiles and I have been called in to serve as Mr. Deerling’s lawyer.”

The officer shook his hand with a deeply uncomfortable frown on his face. He looked Damian up and down, from his perfectly combed hair to the tips of his polished shoes. Then the officer looked at Patton, and his frown only deepened. “Mr. Guiles, are you  _ sure _ that this is your client?”

Damian gave Patton a side glance. Then he focused once more on the police officer. “You’re wondering if Mr. Deerling called me personally to deal with his stupidity?” Patton bristled. The officer let out a booming laugh as he nodded. Damian smiled. “Obviously not. I was paid by a concerned party to represent Mr. Deerling.”

The officer gave Damian a sympathetic smile. And Patton was starting to think that the only emotion he knew how to show was irritation. Turns out, he can do “pitying” too. With an insouciant shrug, Damian brushed the look off and pulled up the spare chair beside Patton’s. “All the necessary arrangements have been made, I’m afraid, so.” Damian sighed so heavily, Patton almost felt guilty. And then he felt angry at almost feeling guilty because he did nothing wrong. “You’re welcome to stay if you like, officer.”

The policeman waved his hand dismissively. “Nah. I don’t need to. Even the great Damian Guiles can’t weasel his client out of this one. You said it yourself, you have to deal with his stupidity. Ten minutes, Guiles, then I’m charging the bastard and next time you’ll see him would be in court. It’d be interesting to see what kind of defense you’ll come up with for a punk like this.”

“That would be interesting, wouldn’t it?” said Damian. He was perfectly pleasant still, suave and charming, but there was a strange kind of bite to his smile. The officer didn’t notice and simply exited the room with a wave and a smirk.

As soon as the door shut, the amiable expression Damian’s face morphed into a scowl and he whipped around to face Patton so fast, Patton was afraid his head might get ripped off. “What the fuck was that!?” Damian snarled. “There are rules to being dragged inside a police station. You sit down, you say ‘I am invoking my right to an attorney and I am invoking my right to remain silent,’ and then you shut the fuck up.”

Patton was getting really sick of being yelled at. First by the ill-tempered officer, then by his supposed lawyer who seemed to be even more cantankerous. “It’s just a question,” Patton muttered, trying to hold onto his patience. 

“Just a question?” Damian scoffed. “Listen, Deerling, if a policeman asks you a question, it’s because he’s trying to get you to say or do something that will get you behind bars. No matter how small the infraction. They don’t care about you, they care about their fucking paychecks and their reports embellished to say ‘arrested a violent criminal for assault’ to make themselves look good.”

“But that’s wrong!”

“Well, newsflash,  _ Patton _ : no one cares! They’re doing a job by trying to get you someplace where you shouldn’t drop the fucking soap. I’m trying to do a job to make sure that doesn’t happen, but you’re making that really fucking difficult when you look like a wannabe Stevo Levy with a tongue just begging to be cut out.” As soon as he raised his voice, Damian brought it back down again with a very professional-sounding sight. Patton didn’t even know sighs could sound professional. “Have your crisis of morality later. Right now, tell me everything that happened so I can do something about all this.”

“I punched a man. Uh, I heard that he needed stitches. And that he got a concussion when his head hit the ground. Because I punched him.”

“So you walked up to a man and punched him for no reason.”

“What!?” Patton gasped, appalled. “No!

Damian shot up from his chair, making the table rattle as he walked around the room, his back to the one-way mirror. He leveled Patton with a sour glare. “So there’s a reason. A reason so compelling that you felt the need to punch someone else for.” The glare was replaced with the smile again. The disarming devil’s smile and Patton could have sworn he was getting whiplash from how quickly Damian’s moods shifted. “Care to share?”

.

No matter how many times he’s done it before, there was always something vindictively satisfying about winning an argument. Somehow, Patton Deerling went from ‘punk’ who was arrested and would have probably been sent to court for more than a simple assault charge to ‘a free man who was allowed to waltz right on out the station.’ Damian did that.

After Mr. Deerling finally caught on to what Damian was doing, convincing the entire station that they had taken into custody a man who was simply trying to protect his own was remarkably easy. It took work, of course, but Damian had done harder jobs before. Now, all that was left to do was go home, get some sleep, and get Remus to buy him some dinner for all the trouble Damian went through.

Mr. Deerling walked beside him out the door. “Thank you,” he said to Damian. There was an apologetic smile on his face that wasn’t the slightest bit endearing. “Sorry that I yelled at you back in the interrogation room. I kind of lost my cool.”

“That was the point,” answered Damian. “If I could elicit a genuine response from you, it would be easier for me to convince the kindly officer to let you go.” Damian opened the door for Mr. Deerling, who gladly walked outside and took a big breath of fresh air. He stretched his arms and garnered a few looks with his unusual outfit. “Don’t think about it too much,” said Damian. “Getting screamed at by unruly clients who dug themselves into a hole too deep to climb out of is a common occurrence. I’m used to it.”

Patton stilled. Then he turned and looked Damian in the eye. “You shouldn’t get used to it.”

“What?” Damian said, intelligently.

“You shouldn’t get used to it,” Patton repeated. “Me being frustrated doesn’t mean that I should just go around yelling at you. It isn’t right. And you shouldn’t let yourself get used to being yelled at. No one should get yelled at, and if your client yelled at you like I did today, tell them to fuck off.”

Maybe it was his lack of sleep, or maybe it was the utter shock on his face, but Damian couldn’t muster up a single retort. No witty quip, no playful banter. He and Mr. Deerling just stood in the street and stared at each other.

‘Thank you,’ Damian wanted to say. Or maybe he should have gone with something flirtier because Mr. Deerling was definitely giving him a smile that wasn’t  _ just _ friendly. Or was that Damian’s imagination? What came out of his mouth was, “You are way too nice for a punk.” Because apparently, all his charm short-circuited at any honest kindness shown his way.

Thankfully, Mr. Deerling didn’t seem to mind. He laughed without a hint of mockery or pride and grinned at Damian instead. “Well, you know what they say, don’t judge the book by the black leather cover. With spikes. And too many wrist bands. Also with spikes.” Damian failed to stifle his chuckle. “It’s useful sometimes though. Especially during parades,” Mr. Deerling continued. “If I wear spiky clothes and dress in all black and march in front, then people pay more attention to me. There are lots of soft-hearted people in the parade, lots of teenagers. Don’t want them to realise that parades had a bunch of bad things too early.”

Damian broke his eyes away from Mr. Deerling’s, choosing to stare at a particularly interesting spot on the pavement. “If you dress like a punk, then the counter-protestors would pay closer attention to you rather than the younger paraders.” And if anything happened, a fight or an argument or whatever else, Patton would be the first person people questioned because of how he looked. No one else had to get involved.

“Yeah!” said Mr. Deerling enthusiastically. “I don’t like doing it, if you were wondering. It’s loud, and having to stand before so many people is scary, and sometimes things happen. Fights happen.” Damian led them both down the street, away from the front of the station. They wouldn’t block traffic that way, and if Mr. Deerling said anything more, no curious officer could overhear and take them both back inside. Mr. Deerling walked beside him, playing with the studded bands on his wrist as he kicked pebbles down the street. “I already told you this at the station. Fights are stupid. I don’t like hurting people, but it seems that these days, the only language that they seem to understand is violence.”

“On that, we can agree.”

Mr. Deerling abruptly stopped. “Oh!” he exclaimed. “Whoops! Looks like time kinda got away from me a bit there. Sorry for keeping you for so long. And thank you! For, you know, the whole talking me out of formal charges and all that.”

Damian gave a small smile and shook his head. “It’s no trouble. I should be the one thanking you.” Mr. Deerling blinked and tilted his head in the most adorable way. Damian cleared his throat. “At the parade. You helped my friend, Remus. Loud, obnoxious, dresses in what should be considered an illegal amount of lace?” Mr. Deerling nodded. “Well, Remus told me how you stood up for him when some asshole started getting in his face. Drunkenly. Over the phone. But he kept asking me to make sure you don’t end up in jail. So, the pleasure is mine, Mr. Deerling.”

“I should still thank you,” said Mr. Deerling. He tapped his foot against the ground, racking his head for something both he and Damian could do. “Uhh, do you like pasta? ‘Cus I make a mean spaghetti. You can come by for dinner if you want.”

Damian fished his phone out of his pocket. “Your aesthetic does not suit your innocent face, Mr. Deerling. What’s your number?”

“You can just call me Patton.”

“Very well.” Damian straightened his tie and pocketed his phone with a smile. “Yes, I would murder a man in cold blood for a good spaghetti and I’m looking forward to having dinner with you. But!” Damian raised a finger, “Only after I’ve slept. I might pass out in the streets like this.”

“Tonight then?”

“Yeah. I’ll see you tonight Patton.”


	28. Day 28: Choice Remus Ship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> BROTHERLY Creativitwins bullet fic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompts given by [TS Ship Month 2020](https://tsshipmonth2020.tumblr.com/)  
> Read it on Tumblr [HERE](https://hufflepuff-deceit.tumblr.com/post/612311804910223360/fluffuary-2020-choice-remus-ship)  
> 

  * They don’t always get along
  * For one, it’s impossible to just. Never get into a friendly tussle with your sibling
  * The cain instinct is strong
  * And for twins, it’s even stronger
  * Every day is a good day for an argument
  * A verbal spar here
  * An actual spar there
  * Maces and swords clash more often than not
  * Never enough to seriously injure, but it hurts
  * Roman has to tend to tender bruises that ache whenever he moves around
  * Remus patches up several shallow cuts that sting under his clothes
  * Then when they’re all healed up, they fight all over again
  * Secondly, Roman and Remus were just. Too different
  * Aside from their shared title of Creativity, they were two completely different Sides
  * Roman was all sunshine and rainbows
  * Puppies and kittens and too much sugar he could kill a nation by rotting their teeth
  * Remus wasn’t like that
  * Remus was gruesome and macabre and knives stabbing rats pinned to chalkboards
  * They were fundamentally different
  * Like the shining sun against the glimmering moon
  * Or two different poisons that cancel each other out
  * And they argue
  * A lot
  * Roman wants a castle fashionably constructed with gold and lined with diamonds
  * Remus wants one built from ancient bones and held together by strips of barely there flesh
  * Roman wants champagne and Remus wants blood
  * Remus wants violence and Roman wants romance
  * They never get along
  * But every now and again, they do something together
  * As brothers
  * Take a couple of hours and retreat into the Imagination and just
  * Create
  * Sometimes, it’s a sculpture
  * A majestic dragon, sitting regally atop a single tower
  * Gnarled horns, tattered wings, breathing a toxic green flame
  * With vibrant healthy scales, shiny golden spikes, and glitter dusting its wings
  * Sometimes, it’s a painting
  * Large and wide and incredibly, painstakingly detailed
  * The colours would be bright and engaging and vivid
  * As a whole, the painting would be happy
  * Maybe it’s a picture of a serene park, the air filled with fluttering butterflies
  * But upon closer inspection, there were creepy details
  * The butterflies had skull patterns in their wings
  * The grass was made of tiny tentacles
  * There were skeletal faces in the tree bark
  * Sometimes, they shape the Imagination together as a whole
  * Landscaping mountains like it was nothing, changing plains into forests and rivers into mountains
  * Both of them put a little bit of themselves into each other’s domain
  * Remus’ barren desert wasteland teeming with monsters and ghouls and all sorts of disgusting, reviling creatures have bushes and bushes of beautiful, red roses
  * Roman’s gorgeous, flowering wonderland full of sunshine and rainbows and singing birds have several skulls and thorns hidden just beneath the surface
  * Their halves of the Imagination have traces of the other, a constant reminder of their bond
  * They still don’t get along
  * But they know that if push comes to shove, they’ll have the other’s back
  * They are brothers, after all




	29. Day 29: Rarepair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt given by @vicdehart on tumblr: “Emile trying to get Dee into a cartoon”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompts given by [TS Ship Month 2020](https://tsshipmonth2020.tumblr.com/)  
> Read it on Tumblr [HERE](https://hufflepuff-deceit.tumblr.com/post/612312519724433408/fluffuary-2020-rarepair)  
> 

“You came!” Emile beamed, opening the door even more for Damian to walk through.

Dr. Picani had always dressed a little oddly. No therapist should ever wear so many pink cardigans and cartoon-print shirts to work. (Considering he was so skilled at his job though, no one paid him any mind.) Yet all that pep and bounce to his outfits paled in comparison to Dr. Picani’s chosen home attire.

The door shut behind them and Damian dutifully followed Picani to the living room. A bowl of popcorn waited for them on the coffee table. “You look good,” said Damian. He felt far too overdressed in his button-up compared to Picani’s casual graphic tee.

It didn’t matter though, since Picani laughed and tugged at the hem of his shirt. “It IS pretty great, isn’t it?” The atrocious pink tee read ‘Steven Chew-niverse’ in garish block letters. There was a picture of a cartoon boy underneath the letters, delightfully shoving one too many pizza slices into his mouth. Terribly uncouth in Damian’s opinion.

“I’m assuming that your TV selection for the night has something to do with your shirt?”

Picani winked. “Don’t you know it Mr. Lawyer Man! You’ll love it, I’m sure.” Damian resented that nickname. He resented the idea of wasting hours sitting in front of a TV even more. Then again, was it really a waste if he could spend those hours with Emile? They haven’t been dating long, but Damian really likes this one.

So if Emile wanted to watch some silly cartoon, Damian will humour him. They settled on the couch, shoulder-to-shoulder, thigh-to-thigh, and sat back as Emile pressed play on the remote. An annoyingly catchy theme song started up, and Damian readied himself for a dull night.

.

“I KNEW IT!!!!” Damian exclaimed, almost leaping off from the couch in his excitement. “When Alexandrite unfused earlier, there were two figures that made up Garnet’s silhouette. I knew she was a fusion!”

Beside him, Emile giggled as he cradled a bowl of popcorn in his lap. “You figured it out so quickly! Good eye. I only realised that when I saw a post about it online.” Damian settled back beside him, and Emile offered him the bowl. Damian took it, popping a few kernels into his mouth.

It was an unexpected surprise, enjoying a bunch of silly cartoons. Damian didn’t expect to enjoy himself, much less get excited about some animated boy named Steven and his enviable Gem Moms. Yet here he was, eyes glued to the screen, hand shoveling popcorn in his mouth regularly as colours and sounds exploded from the TV.

From the corner of his eye, Damian caught Emile staring at him. “What?”

Emile jolted to an upright position, eyes snapping back to the screen. His cheeks were flushed. “Nothing!” he shouted. Damian pretended not to notice the fact that the blush had spread to Emile’s ears, turning the tips a very delectable shade of pink. “Just wondering if you were having fun.”

Well, Damian’s definition of fun consisted of reading a book, or playing the piano. But he had to admit, this was fun too. So he smiled at Emile and said, “Why wouldn’t I? You’re here aren’t you?”

That was partly the truth. Damian did, in fact, enjoy the show. But he enjoyed teasing Emile more. The pink had now turned into a violent shade of red. 

Damian passed him back the popcorn bowl. Emile ate a few pieces. Then he began to tap an irregular beat right at the rim of the bowl, a habit of his nervousness. “It’s getting late. Are you sure you want to stay?” he asked hesitantly, keeping his eyes locked on the screen.

While the show was interesting, Damian couldn’t resist turning to face Emile, mock-gasping as he placed a hand delicately on his chest. “Dr. Picani! Are you rescinding my invitation into your lovely home?”

The sight of a normally serious lawyer make such a fool of himself startled Emile into a soft laugh. “Uh, no?”

“Then I shall stay a while longer,” said Damian. And yes, this may be a little underhanded, but Damian didn’t see any harm in leaning against his boyfriend. Damian rested his head on Emile’s shoulder and relished in Emile’s warmth. If he was asked, he’d say that he simply wanted a better angle to get some popcorn. That, and to get a better vantage point of the TV. “We’re almost at the end of this season, Dr. Picani, and you promised me an amazing finale. I’m not about to miss this.”

Emile shook his head, but he snuggled closer to Damian anyway. “By the time we finish, it’s going to be past midnight. You might not be able to get home safely.”

Damian hummed as he looked up at Emile’s face. All he had to do was lean in just a tiny bit, and his lips connected with Emile’s cheek. Damian will never get tired of watching colour blossom on his boyfriend’s cheek. “Well, if that’s the case, would my darling boyfriend consider letting me stay the night?”

Emile’s arm slid against Damian’s waist.

“Maybe.”


End file.
